


Shattered

by dixiemame33



Category: Disney Cartoons (Classic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-09-20 10:34:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17021046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiemame33/pseuds/dixiemame33
Summary: In this adaptation of The Snow Queen, young Minnie has faithfully obeyed the rules that the wicked ruler forced upon her village. But when her childhood friend disobeys and is taken away, she vows to save him, and perhaps save her own heart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> Happy Holidays, let's traumatize some children!
> 
> This is a story that I've held onto for a while, but it's also one of my stories that's gone through SO many changes since I first thought it up. And, considering what's happened to my other tales, it might continue to change! Who knows? But of course no matter what, I hope you enjoy it.

_Never look in a mirror._

_Never invoke her wrath._

_Never love anyone._

The village had many rules, but these were the first ones ingrained in every child's mind. They were the first words little Minnie had learned, and every day she recited them at breakfast over tasteless porridge. Her father would pat her head, his quiet of her obedience, and then would leave for work without a goodbye. He worked on the crops with many other tired hands, trying to grow what they could out of a dying land. The touch of his hand was cold.

Breakfast was cold. Minnie's shabby hand-me-down clothes were cold. The rickety house was cold. Her mother would say, “You were born cold, you shall live cold, and you will die cold.” So there was no point in complaining about it, as things would be this way forever. Minnie didn't complain by nature anyway. She was content with what she had – mostly because she had no idea there was any other way to be. When Papa went off to work, Mama kept Minnie inside and they did chores. Soon Minnie would get to go to school and meet the other children of the village, but Mama wasn't looking forward to that. Minnie didn't know why, and didn't ask.

So for the first eight years of her life, Minnie had no concept of the outside world. There were no windows to peek outside, they had been boarded up long before Minnie was born. All reflective surfaces were forbidden, it was part of the rule about there being no mirrors. If you could see yourself, then _she_ could see you too.

The first day Minnie experienced life outside her house was all due to Mama's exhaustion. She had gone down for a nap, expecting Minnie to finish the rest of the chores. Minnie planned to, but as she swept along the hallway, her eyes glanced up curiously at the ceiling. There was a string with a wooden ball hanging from the ceiling – it dangled from a square shape, and there wasn't anything else in the house like it. Minnie had known of it always, but, being a good child, had never asked. Good girls didn't ask questions, and Minnie had always considered herself a good child.

Good, not perfect.

She finished sweeping, and with that done, the logic of a child told her that there would be no harm inspecting the string so long as her chores were done. She pulled Papa's chair from the dining room, working quietly and slowly as not to wake Mama. Once she was high enough, she gave the string a small tug. It took two smaller tugs to reveal an answer – the square flapped open, and a wooden ladder trailed down after it. Minnie hesitated, waiting to see if the sounds had disturbed Mama – and since it hadn't, she climbed upwards.

At first she was met with disappointment. There wasn't anything exciting or worthwhile here – everything was covered in white sheets and dust. She couldn't make sense of these strange shapes, even when she dared to peek underneath the sheets. The largest and most peculiar thing had a row of white and black lines, making her think of dirty teeth, and they made a pretty sound when she pressed down on the white ones. She might have explored further, when the shock of seeing something brand new distracted her.

There, off to the right side of the wall, was a window.

It was covered in dust and grime and the ails of time, but it was definitely a window. Minnie fled to the unusual sight, wondering why it was there – why any of this was here. It was upsetting to have all these questions because she knew in her heart she'd never get an answer. She pressed her hands to the dirty glass, and felt a chill from the outside. Minnie thought of going back and keeping this secret all to herself, when she thought she saw something moving outside.

 _Outside._ What a strange, wondrous, frightening idea. Minnie bit her lower lip – due to the window's mess, she couldn't make heads or tails of what was moving out there, only that it wasn't staying still. Her eyes found a tiny latch in the middle of the window, and lifting it would allow the window to spread open. She had already gone this far, why not go further? Her heart beat faster as she undid the hatch, pressing the window open slowly, afraid it might break.

There were lots of things to process at once. The blue sky with white clouds, the wind on her cheek, the smell of dirt, the surprises were unending. The window not only led to the outside world, but to a small terrace that connected her home to the one next door. The wood had once been painted many bright colors, but now it was faded and chipped, with dangerous splinters sticking out. In the exact middle of the connecting bridge was a thick layer of dirt, but not the build-up of neglect – this was black and earthy, fresh from the farmland.

But the most surprising thing to Minnie was the little boy now staring right back at her.

Having never seen another child in her life, Minnie almost didn't know what to make of him. His clothes were much nicer than hers – there were no signs of wear or labored stitching, and the colors were ripe, bright red, particularly the scarf that covered up his mouth. He had a pile of books around him – seven, Minnie counted – and his fingers were coated in black dirt. Had he been the one to bring the dirt there? He blinked at her. She blinked back.

“Hello,” Minnie finally said, politeness winning out over awkwardness. 

“H-Hello...” the boy stammered, muffled underneath his scarf. He then tugged it down, trying again with more confidence. “Hello. Who're you?”

What an odd question. Who else would she be? “I'm Minnie.”

“Oh.” He looked down, then up, making a decision. “I'm Mickey. I'm the Mayor's son.” He said this with growing courage, a title he wore proudly. “And one day I'll be the Mayor. That means I'll be in charge, and I can do anything I want.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Planting seeds.” Mickey glanced down at his left hand, which, since he first saw her, was tightly clenched. He clicked his tongue. “Can you keep a secret?”

Not many secrets were held in Minnie's household, but there had been enough to know what one was. We won't tell Papa we burnt his supper, shall we? “Yes.” She then decided having a conversation with this much distance between them was silly, and made an effort to get down. She could hear Mickey starting to get up, ready to help but, but she managed to stand without any assistance and felt gratified at this accomplishment. She brushed down her dress – one that had been handed down through so many generations that it was more miracles than fabric keeping it together – and felt ashamed to be near a boy with such nice clothing. When Minnie looked back up, however, he wasn't watching with any judgment or disdain. He merely waited patiently for his guest, and with relief, Minnie walked over until she was sitting across from him, the dirt between them. “What's the secret?”

“I'm planting these.” Mickey opened his hand, revealing brown oval-shaped seeds.

Minnie frowned. “So? They're seeds. Papa plants lots of seeds.”

“These are _special_ seeds.” Mickey insisted, and once he placed them in the dirt, he pulled off a book from his pile. After flipping many pages, he found the right one, and held out the book for Minnie to see. “These are rose seeds.” His finger tapped at the page's image, and Minnie's eyes widened. She had never heard of such a plant before, nor had she ever seen anything like the pencil drawing displayed before her.

“These are the petals,” Mickey explained, grateful to have an audience, “And they're all red! Really red! The reddest red you've ever seen. And they smell really good too.”

“How do you eat it?”

“That's the thing. You don't eat them.”

Now this drew Minnie back, confused. “What's the point of growing them if you don't eat them?” Papa and the other farmers only grew plants that could be of use to the village. Why have anything else? It would be a waste of land and effort. Just like buying new clothes was a waste of money, when these rags did their job.

“Because they're nice to look at,” Mickey laid the book out between them so Minnie could get a better look if she so desired, and she did. “A long time ago, they grew all over the place. Other flowers too! All kinds of pretty stuff. And people would put flowers in their clothes and their hair, to make themselves look nice too. And they'd put them in the house to make the house smell good. And then there's this thing called a 'bouquet.'” He turned the page, tapping another paragraph. “You get a whole bunch of them together, tie it with a ribbon, and give it to someone you love.”

Minnie had been enraptured in the mental imagery of decorating one's self in fanciful colors and petals, imagining a dress that swayed in the wind and could possibly make someone like her pretty. But then Mickey had said _that word_ , and with a terrified shriek, Minnie suddenly flew at him, slapping her hand over his mouth. “You can't say that word!”

Mickey sputtered underneath her hand, startled and indignant. “Mmmph!” He wrestled her wrist away, forcing her to sit next to him. “What word?”

“You know what word!” Minnie hissed, trying to keep her voice low. “It's in the rules! If you fall in _that_ , she'll come and take you away!”

The boy snorted, turning his head away with his arms crossed. “Who? The Snow Queen? You actually believe she's real?”

“Of course I do!” And why on earth was he talking as if he didn't? “If you break the rules, the Snow Queen will take you away and no one will ever see you again!”

Mickey adjusted his scarf, and then leaned in, eyebrows raised. “Minnie... have you ever seen the Snow Queen?”

“No.” But then, that was because she was a good girl, wasn't she?

“Have your parents ever seen her?”

“... No.” They certainly would have said so, in order to keep Minnie safe.

“Me neither. And no one I've talked to has ever seen her. And you know why? It ain't 'cause of those stupid rules.” Mickey drew up his chest, with the fearlessness of a person who had never encountered real danger. “It's 'cause she's not real. There's no such thing as the Snow Queen. The grown-ups made her up!”

Minnie felt all the weight in her body shift to the ground, her mouth hanging open. This was sacrilege of the highest order! Yet, to a child's mind, it made a disturbing amount of sense. “But... but why? Why would they do such a thing?”

“To make sure we do whatever they tell us to do,” Mickey answered, casting a hateful glance at the window from where he came – unlike Minnie's, it was perfectly clean. “They keep us scared, so we can't do anything. But things weren't always like this!” He grabbed another book, slamming it down on his lap. “My old man hid these books, but I found them! They're from long ago! Back before there was a 'Snow Queen'. And there was all kinds of fun things people used to do! Dancing, singing, games... people grew flowers, and they had pets, and there was love! And when I'm the Mayor, it's all coming back!”

The lure of such fascinating new things compelled Minnie to consider his declaration as truth more and more. She couldn't make sense of most of what the page said, but the pictures had plenty of stories on their own. Men moving in odd fashions with big grins on their face, girls riding on horseback to race, and she kept moving closer to Mickey in order to read more – which alerted Mickey to the fact that his new friend was, upon closer inspection, very pretty.

“What's this?” Minnie asked, pointing at a new image, and when he didn't answer right away, she looked at him, confused. His cheeks had begun to redden, matching his scarf, and he blinked at her stupidly, foreign to his new feelings. “Oh! Are you sick?” The only reason a person's cheeks would change color was because of a fever, far as Minnie knew, and so she made the problem worse by coming in even closer to touch his forehead. “You should go lay down, I can make you some porridge!”

“I'M GOOD.” Mickey didn't mean to shout it, and swiftly brought up his scarf in a desperate attempt to hide his face. He cleared his throat, trying to move on. “Um, ah... w-what did you want to know?”

Minnie pouted, not sure if she believed him, but was willing to let it go for now. She couldn't help but worry over him now, even if they had only met today. “This.” Minnie pointed again, at the image of a man and a woman standing in front of an altar, holding up small circles.

Relieved to keep his mind and mouth busy, Mickey said, “That's a wedding! It's when two folks who really love each other make a promise to only love each other for the rest of their days. They wear rings, and throw a great big party everyone's invited to. Here, you might like this...” He turned the page, showing an elegant lady dressed all in white, her gown flowing for ages, flowers dolled up in her hair and sparkles in her eyes. “If a woman gets married, she's called a bride, and she wears a beautiful dress.”

Minnie had never seen a more beautiful image in her little life, and her fingers traced over the dress in a sense of longing. What kind of special person did you have to be to wear something like that? She knew it'd never be for her, tried to be sensible about it, yet wanted it all the same. “She's lovely,” Minnie murmured, feeling especially small and disheveled in comparison.

Mickey glanced down at the bride, then to Minnie, back and forth three more times. “How about this? When we get all grown-up, why don't you and I have a wedding?”

Minnie lifted her eyes, at first confused about what was being offered. “What do you mean?”

“What else would I mean? We'll have a wedding, and you'll be the bride, and I'll be the groom.” He gestured to another image on the next page, with a tall prince-like figure in slim attire. “That's who the bride loves and all. And since I'll be the Mayor, it'll be the biggest, happiest, best party the village has ever seen.” He was already picturing it, with things he'd only read about in the forbidden books – warm cakes and hot drinks, frilly ribbons lining the windows, music that made you want to tap your feet and grab a partner. Why on earth had everyone given these pleasures up? Was the grown-up's absolute need for power and control so great that it swallowed up everything else that could make someone happy?

Such powerful ideas were foreign to Minnie, and remained so – she still had trouble believing anyone would do a wicked thing for the sake of themselves. Her eyes and mind remained on the dress. “I don't know,” it came as a soft mumble, because she did know, she did want to say yes. “Mama says I don't need new clothes. Mama says as long as I have what I have, I have enough.” Anything extra would be selfish. Why ask for another blanket for your bed, when you wouldn't die of the cold with what you had? Why ask for another helping of breakfast, when you wouldn't starve with what you ate? Why ask to be held, when your own arms could do the same job?

“I'm not asking your Mama,” Mickey replied defiantly, tugging down his scarf again as he wanted to be taken seriously. “I'm asking you. Do you want to wear a big pretty dress, and have a nice party, and love people?”

Minnie bit her lip, looking intensely into Mickey's eyes. What gave this boy so much confidence? Was it in the secret knowledge he gained? Or was it something he was naturally born with? He was very brave to say such things and believe such things, without any hesitance or help. Minnie could feel her heart beating in her chest – it was like envy, but in a pleasant way. She didn't know this was a feeling called “admiration”. That this was someone she wanted to be like, that this was someone she _could_ be like. Things... perhaps, maybe... Things didn't have the same way forever.

“I do,” She finally said, unaware of the smile on her young face, unaware even more that the sight of it was the best thing Mickey had ever seen before and would ever see for a long time. He rather wished it was in his books, so he could look at it whenever he pleased. “I want to wear nice dresses and... and all those other magical things in your books. I want to wear a dress that's never been worn by anyone else before! And I want to wear things because they make me feel good, not just because it'll keep the cold away! And I want to know what love is! I want to love Mama and Papa, and even you, Mickey!”

“Then it's a promise!” Mickey enthusiastically held out his pinky, his thin tail flicking around. “When you and I are grown-up, we'll have a great big wedding, and you'll be my bride!”

“And you'll be my groom!” Minnie linked her pinky with his, and she was happy. Happier than she'd ever been since... she couldn't really remember. The two wound up dissolving into giggles before Mickey flipped through the pages, eager to show her more things they could do once their lives were free. They talked of gifts not repaid as favors, but as gestures of care and attention to one's likes – talked of crafting desserts made to win over something called a “sweetheart” - talked of dances where you could lean in and feel the heartbeat of your partner.

This went on for some time, until Minnie could hear her Mama shrieking in fear, unable to find her daughter. Minnie jolted upwards, surprised. “Oh... I'd better go back. Mama sounds worried.”

“Aw, gee.” Mickey was disappointed, but understood, closing the book on his lap. “I guess you better go.”

“I guess so.” She was as reluctant to go as he was, but after locking eyes for a few seconds more, she brushed down her tattered dress and walked back to the window. She gripped the frame, ready to crawl in, and gave Mickey one more look. She smiled. “Goodbye, groom.” This didn't have to be a sad occasion. Now that she knew of this place, she could always return.

Mickey smiled back, his cheeks as red as the roses he was planting. “Goodbye, bride.”

Minnie climbed inside the attic, closed the window, and retreated back to the ladder, at the same moment Mama had stumbled upon it. “Minnie!” Mama clutched her chest, unable to believe the sight in front of her. “What were you doing?!”

“I was playing with a friend,” Minnie said once she was on her feet, seeing no reason as to why she had to lie. Maybe if Mama learned about all the amazing things from Mickey's books, she'd understand as well. “I never knew we had another room up there.”

“Of course you didn't know! Why would you ever go up there?” Mama snatched Minnie's wrist, and then hurriedly slammed the ladder back up. “You must never go up there again, Minnie!”

The little girl's heart faltered, her eyes steady on the attic that was now sealed away. “But why? What were all those odd things under the sheets? They made all sorts of strange noises, and-”

“It's all junk!” Mama snapped, pulling Minnie in close, her eyes tight and hard. “Useless junk, the only good it will ever be is firewood! That's what we should do with it... You will not go in there again! That is an order!”

That hardly seemed fair, considering everything Minnie had just learned! “But... But Mama, there's a window up there! And there's another house, it's connected to ours! And there was a boy-”

“What are the rules, Minnie?” Mama cut in, her grip beginning to tighten.

“Never... But, Mama, the boy-”

“What. Are. The. Rules.”

Minnie opened and closed her mouth, the proud spirit she had earned minutes enduring a painful wound. “Nev... Never look in a mirror...”

“Exactly. That's why you can't go up there. Forget all about that other house, and that boy. You'll see plenty of boys when you go to school.”

The daughter couldn't understand this line of reasoning. Minnie's eyes felt hot, and her fingers rolled up into fists. “But... But... But Mickey said I can be his bride!”

It was if the word itself slapped Mama across the face. Her eyes went wide as saucer plates, and her voice was a quiet tremble. “What... did you say?”

“M-Mickey said I can be his bride, and I wanna be his bride!” Her voice came out loud, louder than she knew it could be, and her vision became blurry with tears. “I wanna wear a p-pretty dress, and have a party, and play music, and Mickey said he'll be my groom! He promised me! He says there is no Snow Queen! And if there isn't one, I wanna be a bride! Why can't I do that? I want to! I want to be Mickey's bride!” If there really was no Snow Queen, then there was nothing wrong with these beautiful dreams, and maybe there wasn't really one! Maybe there never was a Snow Queen, and if there wasn't, Minnie should be a bride! Why not? Why not, why not, why not?

Mama breathed slowly through her nostrils, slowly releasing her hold on Minnie's wrist. Her fingers curled up on her chest. “Minnie... go to your room. When Papa gets home, he'll decide what to do with you.”

“There isn't a Snow Queen!” Minnie shouted, feeling the tears on her face and not caring how she looked. “There isn't! And I'm gunna be Mickey's bride!” Defiant to the last, she ran to her room, slamming the door, and let out the first of her sobs. It wasn't fair. Why wouldn't Mama listen? Why did it matter what Papa had to say? Well, they were wrong! They couldn't prove the Snow Queen was real! And she'd be the prettiest bride, and Mickey would make her happy! She laid on her tiny bed, crying and dreaming.

The sun had set by the time Papa came home and learned what he could from Mama. There was a bit of shouting from the hallway, but Minnie couldn't tell what it was about. Eventually the door opened, and Papa walked in, staring down at his daughter, and Minnie was suddenly aware of how tall he was, and how small she was. Mama stood in the hallway, wringing her hands. When Papa spoke, it was grave. “What kind of foolishness has that boy told you?”

Minnie wiped her face clean. “Mickey says there isn't a Snow Queen... no one's ever seen her.” Then, with a mix of fear and hope, “Have _you_ ever seen her?”

“You don't need to see to believe, child. She watches us always, and that boy will put you in her path if you listen to him.”

“I'm not scared of her!” Minnie pushed herself off the bed, trying to stand and see if that made any difference in their height – it didn't. “I wanna be Mickey's bride!”

Papa grumbled deep in the back of his throat, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, he reached for Minnie. “Not scared of her, are you?” He held her by the hand, and walked with her out of the hallway. Minnie saw no reason not to follow along willingly. “We'll see about that.”

Mama tracked behind him, much more upset than before. “Marcus, what are you...”

Papa ignored her, heading for the front door. “If you keep listening to that boy's nonsense, you'll ensure the wrath of the Snow Queen, and she'll take you away, and you will _freeze_. You think your dreams of being a bride can keep you warm?”

“I'm not scared,” Minnie replied, but something in Papa's voice was beginning to frighten her.

Papa opened the front door – a harsh wind blew in, and the world was dark. “Let's see how long that dream of yours lasts. This is only a taste of what it will be like when you're with the Snow Queen!” He then pushed Minnie out the door, and slammed it shut.

Mama began to scream. “ _Marcus! Open the door!_ ”

Minnie landed on her face in the snow, and was quick to sit up, staring at the closed wooden door. She could hear Mama still screaming, demanding that Papa let Minnie in before the girl froze to death, and Papa insisting this was the only way Minnie would learn. It had been cold inside the house – but this was a cold that was entirely new, and much, _much_ worse. Minnie's arms quickly clutched herself, and she looked around, seeing flakes of snow falling from endless black. It was so dark she couldn't see anything else but the door, and in a child's mind, if you couldn't see it, it didn't exist.

So as far as Minnie knew, there was nowhere to go.

Minnie's breath came out in wisps of white, shaky, her legs knocking against each other as she shook. The snow was wet on her shoes, and it leaked in through tiny holes, soaking her toes. The snowflakes pricked her skin, and her teeth chattered, making a horrid noise in her ears. She held herself as tight as she could, bunching up as much as every muscle would allow, and it did nothing. Her eyes remained on the door, but she didn't beg to be let back in. No, this was awful... but! But. She wasn't dead. She was alive. So there! She could survive this. And if she could survive this, she could survive anything the Snow Queen did, if the woman was even real.

Minnie would be Mickey's bride and everything would be okay.

But everything was not okay.

The longer she stayed out, the worse it got. Pain began to crawl up along her legs, digging into her skin, like nails hammered into every inch. Her fingers became raw, and soon it began to hurt even holding herself. The chill began to invade her mouth and nostrils, sealing her up from the inside, making it so every breath in and out was torture. There were pinpricks along her eyes, making it difficult to keep them open. Her vision began to fade in and out until she wasn't entirely she even was in front of her house anymore.

“Papa?” Minnie could no longer hear her parents, and she leaned on the door, trying to knock. “Papa, I'm sorry! I... I believe you!” But there was no response. Fear escalated into panic. “Papa, I believe you, I swear! Let me in!” Still nothing, and her knocking became frantic, to the point of scratching at the door until her fingers were raw. “PAPA! THERE IS A SNOW QUEEN! THERE IS! I WON'T BE ANYONE'S BRIDE! LET ME IN! PAPA, _PLEASE!_ ”

A moan from Mama, and nothing more.

Everything was in pain. There was no escape from it. It hurt to breathe, to blink, to exist, and at one point she trembled so much so fell over into the snow... and then couldn't find the strength to get up. Snow rolled into her clothes, coating her with a new layer of agony. As the night continued, she would discover there was something worse than pain – numbness. Feeling nothing was worse than feeling pain. At that time, she could no longer keep her eyes open, and the world faded, and she couldn't remember what happened after that.

When her eyes did open again, her vision remained blurry, but she could say she was definitely inside again. The fireplace was roaring, and Minnie was covered in as many blankets and layers as Mama could find – Mama, who was screeching at her husband, “How could you?!” - while Papa sat quietly in his chair, smoking a pipe that no longer had any flavor. Minnie went in and out of consciousness several times, but the scene never changed.

She did not meet Mickey again until school.

She did not tell him of that night in the cold.

And she did not believe in dreams anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, Minnie's heart has still been frozen by that horrifying night. Mickey has refused to give up hope for her and for the village - but will his ambitions lead to his doom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> There's a subtle Aladdin call-back in there - so subtle even I didn't realize I'd written it until my editors pointed it out |D I do love my girls, especially when they show me how to hurt my readers all the more.

Whenever Minnie had nightmares – and she had more than she was ever willing to admit – she never woke up screaming. When she did mercifully wake up, she laid in her bed, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling and breathing hard while she assured herself she was alive. She would touch her chest, her cheeks, and then her mouth, all to make sure she was a living, warm person. The nightmares were typically the same – her stuck outside, the cold devouring her entire body, the numbness that threatened to kill her. Sometimes they would contain extra horrors, like an icy pair of hands strangling her throat, no doubt her mind's eye of the Snow Queen.

It had been ten years since that night, but this morning the memory was fresh and cruel as if it had only been yesterday. She laid there for a moment longer, and then forced herself out of bed. It was the last week of school, and soon it would be time for everyone to pick a job and be an official adult. Several of Minnie's classmates had bragged they would skip the week, as they already knew what they would do and didn't need any further education. In a sense, Minnie could have done the same, as she also knew what she would spend her life doing – sewing. The same as her mother, the same as many village women – repairing old clothes was a valuable skill, as it was getting harder and harder to find new fabric. Minnie didn't particularly enjoy sewing, but that didn't matter.

The morning routine went as normal, as she tried to put the night's scare away in the furthest reaches of her mind. She washed up, she dressed, she went to the kitchen to have her tasteless porridge. But the way to the kitchen meant passing the attic, and though she'd never gone there again, her eyes couldn't help but flit to that tiny hidden place every time she passed. When Minnie sat down to eat, she and Mama also went through a routine.

“Good morning.”  
“Good morning.”  
“How did you sleep?”  
“I slept well.”  
“Papa will be home late today.”  
“All right.”

Nothing more, nothing less, just an exchange of information and the occasional white lie. What was the point of telling Mama about her nightmares? The old woman certainly didn't have the power to make them go away. Much of Minnie's life was structured this way – if there was no point in doing it, then it shouldn't be done. Everything was dealt with using cold, hard logic. When the porridge was finished, Minnie gathered her schoolbooks and bundled up. Mama was already at work preparing lunch for later, and by the smell, Minnie could judge it was fish. When Minnie was younger, they used to have it for dinner every day, but with the fish dying in rapid numbers, now it was down to once a week, if that.

Minnie turned the corner from the kitchen, but didn't actually leave. She waited until Mama left to dispose of the fish bones, and then quickly darted back inside to grab a single slice of fish, the tiniest one. So far Mama had yet to notice when these little thefts had occurred, and Minnie wasn't going to chance that today either, so she hurriedly headed for the front door and left, closing the door behind her with an accidentally hard slam.

The sun was bright and brilliant, but it made no difference to the freezing villagers. The snow crunched under Minnie's feet, and she wished it could be silent. She didn't want anyone catching what she was about to do – almost anyone – as she headed two blocks down, finding an alleyway that was covered in snow and trash. She looked around, making sure no one was paying her any mind – it was still early, and only a few shopkeepers had begun to open up their wares. Satisfied, she ducked into the shadows, and then got down on one knee.

“Here, here,” she cooed in a whisper, taking out the fish and laying her hand down, exposing the smell to the world. “Look what I've got.”

A tattered box jostled, and then the thing inside popped out, mewling. Sharing your food with animals wasn't exactly forbidden, but it was highly frowned upon. Unless an animal could help you hunt or give you food like eggs and milk, it served no purpose. Thus the villagers were expected to ignore all the other animals, including homeless kittens, but Minnie couldn't. The black and white kitty-cat eagerly raced to Minnie's open hand, and gobbled on the fish so fast Minnie was worried it would get sick. Thankfully it didn't, and it repaid Minnie's kindness with a soft purr, nuzzling its head to her tender gloved fingers. Minnie stroked the cat between its ears, smiling.

Yes, she knew feeding this starving kitten was pointless, and she was wasting good food, and merely delaying the kitten's inevitable demise. Every time she did this, she'd tell herself it was the last time, and she never believed it.

“Gettin' into trouble first thing in the mornin', huh, Minnie?”

Minnie sucked in air through her nose, but the surprise was brief. She'd know that voice anywhere, and it was a safe one. She stood straight up, smoothing down her dress, and faced him. “You, of all people, don't get to tell me about trouble.”

One of the things that hadn't changed about Mickey since his youth was that annoyingly charming grin he could sport, reaching from one big black ear to the other. But he'd certainly grown a lot since then – while to most of the villagers he was quite short, he was still a good head taller than Minnie, and often times he'd tease her about it, citing “How's the weather down there?” on days when it snowed. As usual, his clothes displayed his wealth, since his family could afford to splurge on new things whenever they pleased. Minnie often wondered why they never moved into a new house, since theirs was still attached to Minnie's own collapsing mess.

Mickey chuckled, tugging down his red scarf, so he could talk more easily. “Here I was, waiting to pick you up in front of your house so we could walk to school together, and instead I find you feedin' Figaro, again.”

“I did not name him,” Minnie insisted. “I only said it once, and I was... I was joking.”

“You don't know how to tell jokes.” Mickey was one of the small number of people who did.

“It's the last time I'm feeding him. It.” Minnie took a breath, and headed out of the alleyway with Mickey walking alongside her. Mickey and Minnie didn't need to walk together to school, as it was a brief journey and both knew the village by heart. Yet, like feeding the kitten, it had become a strange ritual Minnie found herself doing constantly.

“Aw, relax, you know I wouldn't tell a soul.” Mickey watched Minnie out of the corner of his eye as they walked, and seeing her shivering in her mother's old dress, he was tempted to give her his scarf – but anytime he had offered her an extra piece of clothing, she had always rejected it, saying she had what she needed. He knew she'd say the same thing now, even as she rubbed her arms in a desperate attempt for warmth.

“I know... and I'm glad. Thank you.” She could already feel the judging eyes of the villagers they passed. Groups of two were seen as suspicious, because they could mean they were friends, and friends who spent too much time together could grow bonds, care about each other, and then their fate would be sealed. Because of this, Minnie did her best not to make any friends at all – but Mickey stuck to her like a tongue on ice. “Mama still hasn't realized what I've been doing.”

Mickey never cared about those eyes on him, and sometimes he'd blow them a great big raspberry of defiance. “Maybe she does know,” he offered, sticking his hands in his pockets. “And she just doesn't mind.”

Minnie gave him an odd look, which wasn't too shocking as Mickey was always saying odd things like that. He saw things no one else could, believed things no one else wanted to. “I don't think so.”

“But you don't know,” Mickey said with a smile. “Kind of like one of those things I've been reading about. See, there's this thing about a cat in a box...” Mickey continued to ramble on about the possibilities of a cat being either dead or alive, and Minnie barely understood half of it. Sometimes she thought he explained these things to her because no one else would listen, and to be fair, that was accurate. Everyone else would roll their eyes or just tell Mickey to shut his mouth, and this got him in plenty of trouble with his teachers when he felt like adding onto lessons. Nothing he said was useful, but Minnie liked to hear it all the same. It was nice to hear about different things, compared to the same day-to-day business of the village.

It was nice to hear the sound of Mickey's voice in general. Minnie felt she could listen to him recite the alphabet and still enjoy it. Only one thing could distract her from Mickey's ramblings, which had now gone on to things called “experiments” that people used to do. A glittering glimpse of gold – Minnie stopped in her tracks to look, even though she knew nothing would change.

This was the jeweler's shop, and only the richest people could afford these wares, like Mickey and his family. Every year they sold less and less, since these trinkets were seen as pointless, and it was only a matter of time before they went bankrupt. With these facts going through Minnie's head, she gazed upon a necklace laying upon a gray piece of cloth on a straight table, the same necklace she'd gazed at every time she passed this place ever since the shopkeeper first put it out on display. The red bauble was the richest, prettiest red Minnie had ever seen, and it had the same color she imagined a rose would. It was attached to a silver chain, and she could imagine the necklace sitting perfectly on her, and she'd finally be pretty herself.

Mickey had stopped talking when he saw her go still, and his eyes followed to the necklace, then back to her. “That would look really good on you.”

Mickey's voice had snapped Minnie out of her imagination, and she turned her head away. “No it wouldn't. Something like that is for beautiful girls.” Not tiny girls, not girls who had bags under their eyes from nightmares, not girls whose clothing would rip apart if you so much as sneezed.

Mickey grumbled, “I really wish you wouldn't say that kinda stuff.”

“Why not? It's true.” Minnie began to walk on, and as expected, Mickey followed. “Besides, jewelry is useless. It would never keep me warm.”

“But it would make you happy.”

“No, it wouldn't.”

“Then why do you keep staring at it every day?”

Minnie pouted, her cheeks puffing out, making her unknowingly adorable. Just because he asked didn't mean she had to answer! Why did he always have to question things? Why couldn't he be content with things like everyone else? Maybe if she found a good enough answer, he'd stop. “I don't deserve it.”

“Oh, for gosh sakes...” Mickey huffed, and when Minnie tried to walk faster, he grabbed her by the arm. “Why would you ever think that? You don't deserve nice things because your family is a little less-off than some others?”

“My family is fine.” Minnie wouldn't meet Mickey's eyes, even as he turned her towards him.

“You're a wonderful person, Minnie! You always help the other kids when they're struggling with their homework, you go out of your way to help that little kitten, shoot, you hang out with me, and nobody likes me!”

“Mickey, people are staring...”

“I just don't want you to keep saying bad things about yourself! I don't even want you thinking it!”

“Why? What does it matter?”

“Because...” Mickey's strong voice began to weaken, trailing off as Minnie finally looked into his deep eyes. “Because...” His grip on her loosened, but she didn't make an effort to wriggle away. He seemed to be struggling with an unseen notion, his mouth open with nothing to say. It wasn't the first time Mickey looked at her, but each time he did, that unknown desire in his eyes got stronger. Minnie wondered if she stared into his eyes long enough, she'd understand it. Mickey's hand slid down her arm, and although it didn't give Minnie any extra warmth, she wished it would stay there.

Troublesome Mickey, who always questioned things. He asked things about her that Mama and Papa never would, and even though Minnie would try and rebuff his questions, he always came back to her. Try as she might to resist it, she always came back to him, too. She liked his questions. She liked his attitude.

“Minnie?” Mickey asked softly, gently, sweetly, and somehow they'd gotten so close she could see herself reflected in his eyes. What did he see in her that kept him coming back? There was nothing great or special about her. Those acts of kindness she did, they were pointless, useless, it would serve nothing if you helped anyone but yourself. He was great. He was special. “Do you... remember... that promise we made? When we were little kids?”

Of course Minnie did. That still remained one of the happiest days of her life. She smiled to think of it – of the world Mickey had opened up to her, of the laughter and embraces and secrets made that day. Only he ever gave her that kind of light. Only he could - 

_But then she also remembered the night._

The cold, the numbness, the pain in her muscles and bones, seeping into her flesh, needles in her skin, the cold, the cold, the cold, up her legs, in her lungs, in her eyes, the cold, the frozen tears on her cheek, the cold the cold the cold THE COLD COLD _PAPA PLEASE LET ME IN PAPA PAPA EVERYTHING'S DARK I CAN'T SEE COLD PLEASE -_

Minnie shrieked and suddenly pushed Mickey back with all her might, and she fell back herself, sitting in the snow. Mickey stumbled, but managed to catch his balance without falling. He blinked rapidly, having never been told of Minnie's night with death. “What – Minnie?”

Minnie clutched her chest, feeling her heart pound, fighting off tears. It took several more rounds of breathing to remember where she was, and what sin she'd almost committed. Her lips smacked together, and she wobbly stood up. “I-I... I'm sorry, Mickey...”

Mickey offered her his hand but she didn't take it. “Minnie, what is it? What happened?”

It took effort to put one foot in front of the other and pretend like nothing happened. “We... we should get going, we'll be late for school.”

“But... Minnie?” Again and again Mickey asked what was wrong, and again and again Minnie wouldn't tell him. The trembling in her body couldn't have just been from the cold, he knew that much, and it sickened him to think of what she could be going through – more so that apparently he couldn't do anything about it. After three more times Mickey gave up asking, but he went through with temptation and wrapped his scarf around Minnie's neck. Although she said nothing, for once she didn't object.

The rest of the walk would have been in stony silence, but a strange smell caught their noses two blocks away. They paused in unison, sniffing together, and they exchanged a curious look. Their first and correct guess was smoke, but no chimneys showed any sign of it. When they did spot the traces of smoke, they recognized the direction as the schoolhouse. The initial thought boggled the mind – had the school caught fire? How in blazes was such a thing possible, when every day was so frigid? They resumed walking, their pace faster, and soon enough the answer was in front of their eyes.

A large bonfire was being made in front of the brick school, with students of all ages and teachers adding to the fire. Every so often one would stop to hold their hands out and enjoy the heat, and Minnie wanted little more than to do the exact same thing. But what were they burning? Firewood had to be watched over generously, so that every household had the right amount to survive. How could they afford to burn up so much at once?

Mickey and Minnie's eyes went downward, and saw that it wasn't wood being burned, but books.

Minnie's jaw dropped, but it was Mickey who yelled, “What are you doing?!” and he ran forward to the first person he could grab, trying to snatch the book from his hands. “You can't do this!”

As fate would have it, that first person was the biggest and tallest of Minnie's schoolmates, a lug named Pete who was more interested in laziness than learning. Minnie would have thought he would be among those who skipped the last week, seeing as he was dead-set on becoming a lumberjack. “Back off, pipsqueak!” It was his favorite taunt towards Mickey, and he held onto his book with ease. “The teachers all decided this morning to get rid of 'em! About time, if'fn you ask me!”

“Nobody asked you!” Mickey refused to let go, digging his fingers into the book, his teeth grinding as he made an effort with all his strength. It wasn't enough – Pete was tall enough to hold the book, and therefore Mickey, high up in the air. It made for a pathetic sight, and Minnie remained in place, not knowing what to do, or if anything could be done. Mickey kicked his feet, undaunted. “You can't do this! This is our history!”

“History's in the past, we gotta live in the present!” With one hard shake, Pete managed to throw Mickey off into the snow. “Who needs this stuff? If we can remember it, we can learn it, that's good enough!” With that, Pete tossed the offending book into the fire, and it crackled to death. The other schoolchildren didn't show much expression about losing their books, and only a handful of teachers appeared to have something close to regret.

Mickey fumbled to get to his feet. “But you can't! This... you don't know what you're doing!” In a valiant effort to make them understand, he threw down his school satchel and pulled out a book – Minnie instantly recognized it as one of his father's forbidden tomes, and she wordlessly reached out for Mickey in a vain hope to make him stop. “Look at what we used to have! Weddings, dances, games, we don't deserve to lose this!” Some of the younger children stopped, perplexed by these words, and the adults shut their eyes, as if that would drown out the words. “Pete, just... just look at this! We can have this again, if we don't forget it!” He opened the book, and showed Pete the image of a couple dancing, their joy lost in melody. For a moment, Minnie thought she saw Pete's expression soften, first in confusion, then in pain.

“Things don't have to stay the same forever,” Mickey insisted, all but pleading to the boy who tended to pick on him when things were at their lowest. It was another of Mickey's strange traits, that he was so forgiving to everyone and anyone. She didn't know why he was like this, when it only hurt him in the end, just as she knew it would now.

Just as she knew Pete would take a breath, and then rip the page off. “Garbage. It's all garbage!”

Mickey's face went pale, and he yanked his book back. “Stop it!”

Pete tossed the page into the fire, and Minnie silently watched the dancing couple leave the world together. “If you want to get in trouble with the Snow Queen, that's your business!” he huffed, puffing out his chest to reassert his authority, and the rest of the school resumed their destruction. “But not us! We'll stay on her good side, no matter what it takes!”

Mickey's entire body clenched up at once, and then he uttered a growl so dark and deep that it frightened Minnie. “Her, again... always her... that stupid fairy tale...” He then stomped his foot into the snow with a great big crunch, and yelled, “THERE IS NO SNOW QUEEN!”

“Mickey,” Minnie inched towards him, hoping she could make him stop, knowing she couldn't, “Please...”

As everyone stared at Mickey's open defiance, he continued to rant, his face reddening with anger. “All of you just continue to believe this great big lie, and for what? So we can keep being miserable? Our land is dying! Our animals are dying! WE'RE DYING! All because no one wants to change anything! When I become the Mayor, all of this Snow Queen nonsense is done for! We'll go back to the way things used to be!”

Pete snorted, and stuck his bulbous finger to Mickey's chest. “You think you can? Listen, pipsqueak... you might get your daddy's title, but it won't mean squat if no one obeys you! You think we're gunna risk our lives because you're a dummy?”

“There. Is. No. Snow Queen.” Mickey then took another breath, and cupped his mouth as best he can. “HEY, QUEENIE!” He shouted as loud as he could. “IF YOU HEAR ME, COME AND GET ME! I'LL GIVE YOU A BIG OL' WELCOME – RIGHT ON THE FIREPLACE!”

“Mickey!” Minnie tried again, failed again.

“You little runt!” Pete broke out into a sweat and not because of the flames. “You're gunna get us all killed!”

“GUESS WHAT, YOUR HIGHNESS?” Mickey continued to shout, even clicking his heels and twirling his arm, a mockery of how he imagined royals to act. “I'M GUNNA PUT UP MIRRORS EVERYWHERE! THAT'S RIGHT, GET READY TO SEE MY MUG ALL THE TIME! AND I'M GUNNA DANCE, AND SING, AND LOVE!” Several of the youngest ones began running away, as if this open declaration of war would summon the Snow Queen right then and there. “AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I'M IN LOVE WITH-”

Pete's fist met Mickey's face with such force that Mickey's whole body left a huge imprint in the snow. His book went flying out of his hand, and a hard wheezing breath escaped his mouth. Minnie gasped his name, and flew to his side, kneeling beside him. Pete cracked his knuckles, taking a step forward, ready to add more punishment, when Minnie held up her hands. “Pete, please! He... he can't stop you, not all of you, just... leave him alone. He doesn't know what he's saying.” With her head turned away, she didn't see Mickey's pained expression – those words had hurt much more than Pete's swing.

The older boy snorted hard, but relented, picking up Mickey's book. “I don't know why you hang out with that loser. He's only going to get you into trouble.” Minnie had no retort for that, since it was true. Pete looked down at the book he held, and it opened in his hand, showing more drawn pictures of people dancing together, with happy smiles and locked hands. It hurt his chest to see it, and he mournfully threw it into the flames. Dancing, whatever that was, was probably something no one would want to do with him anyway.

Mickey managed to sit up, rubbing his aching cheek. It was definitely going to bruise. Minnie began to brush the snow off his jacket. “Here, let's get you inside before your clothes get wet...”

“I'm not going inside,” Mickey grumbled, pushing himself up. “I'm not going to sit in that school while they let our history die! I won't be a part of it!” Once he stood up, he readjusted his satchel over his shoulder. “I'm not going to let anyone get rid of my books.” After all, if they were willing to go this far, who was to say they wouldn't come after all the books in everyone's households? “They'll have to get through me first.”

Minnie knew he would put up a fight, and the idea of him of him in even more agony stung. “Mickey, why do you keep acting this way? You keep putting yourself in more and more danger, it's not worth it!”

“It _is_ worth it!” Mickey faced her, and it was clear he was struggling not to glare at her, knowing that the way she thought wasn't her fault. “Minnie, isn't there something... anything... you'd fight for? Something you'd want with all your heart, no matter what anyone said? Don't you have dreams?”

Minnie didn't want to speak. She didn't want to say the things she knew would cause him further grief. But if he continued down this road, his entire life would be miserable, and she couldn't bear that thought. Maybe when he finally accepted things, he'd stop being Pete's punching bag, stop being the mockery of the village, stop getting his hopes up for nothing. Maybe then he'd be safe. With great strength, she met his eyes. “Dreams don't exist...” she returned his scarf to him by lightly wrapping it around his neck. “... And neither does love.”

Initially Minnie expected Mickey to argue with her, as usual, make some irresponsible yet impassioned plea about the past and the future. Yet this time Mickey said nothing, and the weirdest thing was that somehow made Minnie feel all the worse. He sucked in his cheeks, and pulled his scarf to cover his mouth. They gazed at each other a moment longer, the fire growing higher and the sky becoming black with smoke. Pete glanced at them when he thought he could get away with it, envious of their bond.

Then Mickey turned and walked away from Minnie and from the schoolhouse. As much as she wanted to run after him, her feet remained in place. Her eyes remained on Mickey's back until he wasn't even a speck in the distance – she felt Pete's hand on her shoulder, turning her away with a gentleness she didn't know he was capable of. They watched the fire, and while Minnie didn't toss a book in, Pete never forced her to.

~*~

Mickey intended to go straight home, except he wound up making one stop.

When he did arrive home, his father never looked up from his work desk, counting coins and making measurements. His mother had died long ago, her weak body unable to handle the cold anymore, and Mickey didn't have a single memory of her smiling. He headed straight for the attic, right for the forbidden window that led to the terrace connecting his house with Minnie's. She'd never gone back to their special place, even though Mickey waited every day. He wiped his hand on the window, and saw his reflection.

_Never look in a mirror._

“I'm not afraid of you,” he whispered, his newest purchase resting in his other hand. “I will save the village. I will bring back everything you took. And I'm going to tell her how I really feel. And you will _never_ stop me from loving her.”

He let the moment rest, and then felt a little silly about it. It was time to stop talking about change and actually do something about it. Tomorrow would be a new day. He tucked his purchase into his pocket, and climbed out onto the terrace to resume his gardening experiments.

Tomorrow would change his life, he knew it, and it would change hers too.

He would keep his promise.

~*~

Mickey was not the only person who saw his reflection. In fact, she continued to watch him, shaking her head at his foolishness. Here she thought she had wiped the ridiculous notion out of people's hearts and minds completely, but... no matter.

“Ready the horses.”

No response – not that she expected any. The palace was eternally still, frozen in time. The woman began to walk down the icy stairs, her staff lightly brushing the ground alongside her.

She had given that child every opportunity to learn, to turn back, to abandon his mindset. But it was clear he wasn't going to back down. So be it.

Tomorrow would change his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Mickey makes a decision meant to change their lives for the better, Minnie discovers that some fairy tales contain an ounce of truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> Originally I didn't plan to have Pete show up again, but he fit a good role I needed. Also, the design/function of the jewelry has changed several times over the years in the thinking of this tale.

Minnie didn't have any nightmares that night, which surprised her, given what happened that day. She had prepared herself for the worst one yet, especially given Mickey's outbursts and the dreadful feeling of impending doom after. So it was a great shock, and relief, that when she woke up the next morning, she couldn't remember anything from the land of dreams. She laid in bed a few minutes, just in case this was a dream – one could never be too careful – and when she was sure she was in the waking world, she slid out of bed with a bit more spring in her step.

Perhaps today would be a good day. Or at least not a bad one. Perhaps Mickey would have gotten over his righteous anger and things could go back to normal. He'd walk her to school, talk more about things forgotten, crack some jokes, and have his hand linger a little closer to hers. There was no reason things couldn't stay the same, she thought. Things could be good.

That positive attitude lasted a good few minutes before she went to the kitchen, and had another surprise waiting for her – her father hadn't gone to work yet. His coat was tied together by rope, as the buttons had fallen off ages ago. He was talking to Mama in a hushed tone, one hand trying to hold his coat together, the other hanging listlessly at his side, only moving now and then to make futile gestures. Mama was wringing her hands. They were whispering, trying not to be heard, and Minnie took a step back into the hallway before they could see her.

“... Just nothing growing... not getting better.”  
“... Supposed to do? … Starve! We'll starve!”  
“I know that... have to make due.”  
“With what? … running out.”

Minnie would never call herself smart – or pretty, or kind, or anything remotely nice about herself, as was custom of the village – but she could put the pieces together. It resonated with what Mickey had shouted about yesterday – that everything was dying. This had to include the farmland, and Papa's vegetables. The unfairness of it all curdled Minnie's stomach. They were doing everything right, they were obeying all the rules, and still the cold would never leave. What were they supposed to do when they could no longer feed themselves?

The horror of it all was too much for Minnie to bear, and she slapped her cheeks in an effort to snap out of it. They weren't starving _now_. They had food _now_. So there was no point in worrying about it _now_. Why worry about things you couldn't change? Minnie couldn't make the plants grow or food appear, so there was nothing for her to concern herself with. With a deep breath, she walked into the kitchen, announcing herself with a subdued “Good morning.”

Her parents jerked, and quickly inspected Minnie's face to see if she'd overheard anything. Minnie kept her expression neutral. “You're still here, Papa?” she asked as if she hadn't noticed before.

Papa ran his hand over his mouth, and Minnie saw the look in his eyes that hadn't changed since he first threw her out into that snow night years ago. It was an agony so deep that if one didn't know any better, they'd have thought he suffered a mortal wound. And Minnie didn't know any better. So she merely thought that's how he looked all the time.

Finally he spoke, weary. “I'll be off now. Don't think about it. Eat your breakfast.”

“Okay.” Minnie took a step towards the breakfast table, then stopped. “Actually... I'm not very hungry.”

Mama raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You're not?”

“No. I'm not,” she lied as she grabbed her books and stuffed them into her back, hurriedly making her way to door. “Eat my share.” She exited the house before either of them could hear her stomach growl.

Mickey wasn't waiting for her outside, and so her disappointment in the morning grew. Maybe he wouldn't come back to school for the remaining week, as a protest to the burning books. The idea made her entire body heavy, and as she walked it was if she was covered in cement. Once school was done, they would have no more reason to walk together or even speak to one another. He'd have his duties as the Mayor and she'd have hers as a seamstress. She held her stomach, unsure if it hurt because of skipping breakfast or Mickey skipping her.

It was colder today than it was yesterday, adding to the list of things making today miserable. She shivered, fingers digging into her arm, and with one glimpse at the clouds she knew it would snow soon. The last hope she had for anything remained with the jewelry shop, of that lovely bauble that didn't belong to her. She tried to think of it and nothing else.

It was gone.

Minnie stood in front of the now empty display, her mouth hanging open in sheer disbelief. The logical part of her mind scolded her for being so bewildered. Someone was bound to buy it eventually, and it was never going to be her. It would have been a waste of money, not to mention it was clearly intended for a pretty girl. Not like her. Not this thin girl with cracked lips and wet socks. There should be no reason for sadness, even as tears stung her eyes. Sadness was pointless. Feelings were pointless. Everything was - 

“Minnie?”

Mickey's voice made her gasp, and she hastily rubbed her eyes to remove any traces of tears. When she looked over, Mickey was emerging from the jeweler's shop, one hand behind his back, faint amusement in his smile. “Huh. Should've known you'd be here. Kinda dulls the surprise a bit.”

It was beginning to snow, and a quiet wind began to pick up. A few passing villagers paused in their chores, thinking they heard something in the distance, unsure what it was exactly, but then dismissed it. Minnie blinked at Mickey. “Surprise? What do you mean?”

Mickey walked up to Minnie, still keeping his hand behind him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He seemed to be making an extra effort to look presentable, his back straight and his clothes neat and tidy. “Minnie... do you remember what we talked about yesterday?”

“We talked about a lot of things,” Minnie reminded him. “We always do.” She thought about mentioning how soon it would be that they wouldn't talk again. But why bring it up? Why make things worse? She didn't want to make him sad again. Even if they couldn't talk anymore, she wished he could be happy. Maybe he could talk to the people he worked with as Mayor. Would they be a better substitute than her?

Mickey made a soft chuckle. “That's true... highlight of my day, bein' honest. No one I'd rather talk to than you. In fact... doin' anythin' with you makes stuff better. Even when we're eatin' and not sayin' a thing, it's... nice to have you there. You make me feel like every day's somethin' to be thankful for. Shoot, just thinkin' of you is enough to make any snowy day a warm one.” Speaking of, the snowfall was getting thicker – rather quickly, one might notice, but Mickey was clearly determined to stay on track. “And I know soon, you'll have your path, and I'll have mine.”

Minnie said nothing, her mind reeling. What was he going on about? How could someone like her make anyone warm? Yet there was a comfort that apparently he'd been thinking about their upcoming separation as well.

“And when I'm Mayor, I _will_ change things,” Mickey continued, his voice becoming stronger. “We'll dance and sing again... we'll have games and fun again! We'll find new ways to get plants and food and clothes... instead of the same old traditions that don't do us any good. And I know people will be angry with me for tryin' to do it. They'll be scared, and I won't blame 'em. I'm a little scared myself. But...I'd be a little less scared... if you were there.”

Minnie could feel her heart vibrating throughout her body. What was he saying? Why would she be there? How would her presence help? She couldn't get words to move out of her mouth.

Nearby, Pete, who had decided to stop going to school since he had his job, was loading his lumberjack equipment onto a wagon. They were the same tools his father used, and they were rusty. Here he thought he'd have an easy time in an easy job, and tools like this would make everything harder. He grumbled, and his eyes drifted to Mickey and Minnie, and again he grew envious of their bond... but this thought was interrupted by a curiosity several miles away, coming out of the dark woods. He squinted through the snow. He could see _something_ , and after glancing around, he saw other people making a similar face. What it was, they couldn't be sure, but it was there.

And it was getting closer.

“I still remember our promise,” Mickey said, after taking a deep breath. “And I intend to keep it. Mayor's got to be a man of his word, after all.” He had hoped to make her laugh or smile but got neither. He swallowed, and then brought his hidden hand forward. There lay the red jewelry Minnie had longed for.

Minnie stopped breathing.

Mickey got down on one knee, holding Minnie's hand. “Minnie... I love you. Will you be my bride?”

Pete heard hoof-beats, and that was bizarre too, because in snow this heavy, you couldn't hear your own footsteps, let alone the sound of a horse. They had to be some extremely powerful stallions to make themselves heard! But he didn't know anyone in the village with that kind of horsepower, as so many were weak and ailing. The snow was falling even harder now, and the wind was beginning to howl.

Minnie's mouth was open. She was a little girl again. She was dying again.

_Never love anyone IT'S COLD IT'S COLD PAPA HELP ME never love anyone I CAN'T SEE I CAN'T FEEL never love anyone never love anyone NEVER LOVE ANYONE SOMEONE HELP ME IT'S COLD IT'S COLD IT'S COLD IT'S COLD_

Mickey, who still knew nothing of the trauma that Minnie had endured that one haunting night, felt a sting in his chest when she didn't reply. He tried to be patient, as he didn't want to force an answer out of her, but her eyes were glassy, as if she was there but not there. It was if she'd become a stopped clock, the hands no longer moving, time locked inside.

_COLD COLD COLD have to answer he's waiting for an answer HELP ME IT'S SO COLD don't want to hurt him DON'T WANT TO DIE say something say anything do something SOMEONE DO SOMETHING_

Only now did Mickey and Minnie hear the horses, and the sound shattered their world. Mickey rose to his feet, and Minnie turned around, fresh tears on her cheeks, and everyone around them saw the horses pull to a stop.

The horses – three of them – were silver like rich coins, eyes white and hollow, their gray manes fluttering about in the wind, golden reins attached to their mouths. They didn't bray or neigh or make a sound, standing eerily still now that they had been commanded. The sleigh attached to it was white, and at first glance, the three people inside the sleigh were so white one couldn't see them in the snow. But after a blink, it was obvious they were, in fact, people. Two men were holding the reins, wearing thick silver armor with blue snowflake insignia's on their chest. Like the horses, they only looked ahead, expressing nothing, their faces pale without any trace of blood behind their flesh. They remained rigid, making it impossible to tell if they were breathing, or even alive.

But the woman was definitely alive.

As she got up from her seat the snow abruptly stopped, as did the wind. No one in the village dared to move, too stunned by whatever was going on in front of them. The woman was beautiful, astoundingly so, with raven black hair that pooled down to her shoulders and was tied in the back. Her large dress was white, but several layered shades of it, like pure snow and fresh cream and ripped paper. A fluffy cape traveled with her as she walked, ermine if Minnie had to guess, vaguely remembering it as a word from one of Mickey's forbidden books. Minnie noted that the large hat the woman was wearing had the same snowflake insignia on it that the footmen had. The left footman finally moved, opening the door to the sleigh so the woman could step down to the ground.

In her left hand she held a staff taller than she was, white with silver stripes, and a circular cracked mirror sat on the top, surrounded by white icicles. She was looking right at Mickey. On instinct, Mickey pulled Minnie to him to put her behind him, and she didn't resist. No one else dared to move, as if put under a spell.

“So you are the one who has been disrupting things,” the woman said, her beak moving slowly as she observed him, though there was still several feet of distance between them. Her voice was flat, and emotionless, and Minnie found the same likeness in her rich black eyes. “I have tried to be patient. I have tried to be generous. But you just wouldn't learn your place.”

Mickey stood tall, now holding the jewel to his chest. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“Not a bright child, are you?” There might have been a flicker of light in that darkness, but Minnie was far too frightened to look at the woman's eyes for long. “Who else would I be? I am she who rules your village. I am she who makes the laws. I am she who governs the winter. I am the Snow Queen.”

“That-” Mickey got one word out before the spell over the people was broken, and people were frantically scrambling to get into their homes, abandoning their carts and shops and groceries to slam and lock their doors. Even Pete had high-tailed it back inside, rushing to push a desk drawer in front of the door. Minnie was shaking so hard her vision began to blur. She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Wake up, she needed to wake up, this wasn't happening, she would wake up and the farmland would be okay and Mickey would walk her to school and he wouldn't say anything foolish - 

“That can't be!” Mickey tried again, once the noise had settled, although there was a weak twist in his otherwise confident voice. “There is no such thing as the Snow Queen! She's... just some fairy tale our elders made up to keep us in line! I don't know who you think you are, but you can't go around scaring people! It ain't right!” He glanced back behind to check on Minnie, and seeing her frightened state only increased his anger - more so that he could do nothing to assuage it.

“I am not here to debate or argue,” the woman said, never taking her eyes off Mickey. “But I can be merciful. Renounce your love, and swear to me that you will never break one of my rules again...and you can avoid your punishment.”

Mickey's teeth clenched into a tight-lipped snarl, and he shoved the gift behind him into Minnie's hands. “Lady, that hat must be on real tight, because you're all kinds of crazy! I ain't renouncin' nothin'!” In a spur of the moment decision, Mickey swiftly bent over to grab a handful of snow, packed it twice, and then hurled the promptly-made snowball at the woman's face. “Here's what I think of those dumb rules!”

The woman didn't move or attempt to duck. The snow hit her face, and she didn't flinch, the powder sliding off her beak and cheek. Mickey's anger was momentarily smothered, startled that she hadn't even bothered to tilt her head. Come to think of it – had this woman even blinked _once_ since she arrived? For the first time, it was Mickey's turn to feel cold, like icicles forming along his spine.

He took a step back, and whispered. “Minnie, get inside.”

Minnie found her voice, but it was fragile. “Mickey?”

“Get inside,” Mickey tried again, with the sound of a man who had begun to accept that some fairy tales contained an ounce of truth. Minnie still hadn't moved – felt she couldn't.

“You are quite the stubborn one,” the Snow Queen brushed a few flecks off of her face. “But I guess I shouldn't have expected any better from you. There will always be children who refuse to listen... who refuse to learn. I make this world safe for you, and I am repaid in defiance.” Now she held the staff with two hands, and the mirror began to glow.

“Safe!” Mickey found his fire again, refusing to move if Minnie wouldn't, and she couldn't, she was both young and old, in the night and the day, lost in the memories of past and present. “Safe from what? You're killing us! We never asked for this! You can't make people stop loving one another!”

“Love brings nothing but pain.” The glow became sharper, harsher, and the crack in the mirror began to spread. “It weakens you. It blinds you. And it will not save you.” She raised the staff high in the air, the wind and snow picking up again, worse than before, and Minnie wanted nothing more than to close her eyes but she couldn't. Why couldn't Mickey just take it back? He didn't have to mean it, he could just say it!

“One shard to freeze your mind.”

 _Just take it back, just say you don't love me_ , but the words wouldn't go past Minnie's lips, becoming nothing more than a mental scream. 

“Two shards to freeze your heart.”

_It's not worth it, she's real, she's real and she'll take you away, just like the elders said, just take it back!_

“Three shards to freeze your soul.”

_MICKEY JUST TAKE IT BACK, I'M NOT WORTH THIS, PAPA IT'S SO COLD -_

The mirror made a horrendous cracking sound, and when the Snow Queen slammed the staff into the ground, one singular silver shard flew out of the mirror – Mickey unthinkingly pushed Minnie away as hard as he could – she fell backwards, landing on her tail, the jewel landing right beside her – and the shard was thrust into Mickey's chest.

He cried out yet made no sound, breathing without air. The shard pushed itself deeper into his chest, going past cloth and flesh without leaving any trace of a hole. Blue lines glowed deeply from within his body – the blood in his veins, Minnie understood with wordless screaming – reaching all the way to his face, until his very eyes became a hollow blue. He tried to move forward, one step, and then his eyes rolled back, and he fell face-down into the snow.

Minnie covered her mouth with her hands, barely able to comprehend the scene in front of her. Mickey would get up, he had to get up, he would always get up when other people knocked him down.

But the Snow Queen was not other people.

The tears wouldn't stop, and she had now reached a level of fear so intense she thought her heart would give out and die.

The mirror no longer glowed, and the Snow Queen stepped ahead, lightly prodding Mickey's head with her staff, like a bored carnivore checking its prey. She was rewarded with Mickey's shivering fingers gradually making an effort to grab her dress. All the strength he had left was put towards his head, trying to lift it up, his eyes still blue. “L-l-l-leave... h-h-her...” But that was all he had, and his head fell down again.

The Snow Queen clicked her tongue. “Stronger than most, I'll give you that. You'll make a fine soldier.” Then, with a snap of her fingers, the second coachmen left the sled, walking in the snow to lift Mickey over his shoulder. That's when the Snow Queen finally looked at Minnie.

Minnie looked back at her. Was she to be next? Was she to be taken away with Mickey? Her cheeks were wet with tears that were so very, very cold on her face. The Snow Queen walked up to Minnie, and then bent over to inspect her. “And what of you, girl? Do you return his love? What do you have to say?”

Silence. Minnie couldn't say anything. She could barely think, save for the fact that she was cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. The Snow Queen reached for her, and Minnie was sure she would die, as sure as she had been when she lost consciousness outside of the family household.

“Good girl.” The Snow Queen gently stroked the space between Minnie's ears, and it was like melting icicles went through her fur. “Yes, you'll live much longer this way. Isn't that for the best?” Satisfied, she pulled away, and turned toward her sled. “However, this town must be punished, so this boy's foolishness can never happen again.” The snow fell harder upon these words, and what remained of the roads would be buried in minutes. The Snow Queen returned to her sled and her seat, and she gazed at Minnie once more.

“Remember my rules, girl. Let them all know what awaits if I am disobeyed. There is no love that is worth more than a life.” With Mickey's body laid out on the sled and both coachmen at the helm, the horses began to gallop, and they departed, not leaving any hoof prints behind.

Minnie still didn't move, even as the snow began to bury Mickey's present. Only now was she free of the past, only now was she the adult, not the child. She continued to stare at the place where the sled had been, where Mickey had been, and he wasn't coming back.

He was gone. Mickey was gone.

Because of her, Mickey was gone forever.

Eventually – an hour at most – people began to leave their houses. When Pete saw Minnie sitting in that spot, looking as if the very world had died inside of her, he hesitated for a moment before approaching her. He didn't ask where Mickey was – the answer was obvious. No longer jealous of their bond, he awkwardly touched Minnie's arms and tried to help her stand up. She didn't resist and she didn't help, moving like a rag-doll, a marionette without strings. She wouldn't even look at him.

He swallowed, and then lifted her in his arms, carrying her all the way back to her house. He sat her down on the porch, knocked twice, and then walked away. He didn't look back. Didn't think he could stomach it. There was work to be done, even if the snow would make it all the harder.

What else could he do?

What else could anyone do?

Minnie didn't hear Mama open the door, or feel her arms around her, asking what had happened. She didn't notice she was carried to bed, or that Papa still hadn't gone to work. Or perhaps she did notice – and just didn't care. Everything would keep going. One missing person wouldn't change things. It was pointless to speak of it.

Pointless to think of it.

Nothing had worth, same as always. And Minnie...

_“Minnie... I love you. Will you be my bride?”_

Oh, and Minnie felt she was the most worthless of all.

~*~

As the Snow Queen's sled made its way through the dark woods, one pair of eyes watched her, forlorn and lost.

“Another one lost, is it?” he said to himself, knowing that where he was, no one could hear him. “I wonder if anyone will come after this one. Not that it'll make much difference.” Yet as he said it, he wished so hard for it to be true. That someone would come. That someone would try.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered to the wind, and he wept.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Minnie makes a major decision about her future, she finds an unusual ally for her journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> TW: Suicide Idealization.
> 
> Ratface is a "new" addition to the story when it was made in my head, although by new I mean about a year or two.

Despair and agony didn't stop time, but they did make Minnie less aware that it was passing. When Minnie was put to bed, she didn't get up for hours, which turned into days. When her parents tried to speak to her, she didn't hear them. When Mama tried to put food in her mouth, she didn't acknowledge it. Although her body ached from hunger and grew sore from lack of movement, it seemed incredibly small compared to the pain in her heart. Mickey was gone, and it was her fault. In retrospect, everything was pointless.

Eating was pointless. Sleeping was pointless. Talking was pointless.

On day three of Minnie's mourning, Papa entered her room quietly and sat down on the bed, taking off his hat. He didn't say anything initially, thumbing the hat in his hands and observing his daughter who was becoming thinner by the day. When he finally thought of something to say, it was as if he was making it up off the top of his head. “You need to get up,” he said softly, not looking at her. “School's over soon... you'll have to start your new job. Sewing's a fine thing. We need all the help we can get with our clothes... we're not getting new material in. And your mother is wasting food if you won't eat it.”

He didn't think this would be enough to stir Minnie, and he was sadly correct. He reached out to touch her hand, squeeze it, but even that didn't get her to as much as look at him. He sighed deeply, getting up and placing his hat back on his head. “Better him than you, Minnie. You're a good girl. You always have been. What good does it do anyone if you lay here the rest of your days?” With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Night had already fallen, and Papa and Mama went off to bed. But as Minnie lay there, she finally heard what someone had said – unfortunately, she understood it a different way. Yes, it wouldn't do anyone any good to lay there forever.

It wouldn't do anyone any good if she continued to exist.

She wordlessly rose from her bed, aware of what needed to be done. If everything was pointless, that included living. Why burden her parents? Why burden the village? Ultimately she had even been a burden to Mickey. If not for her, maybe he'd still be here. Without making a sound, she found the string to the attic, and pulled it down, climbing up the stairs to the forbidden room. It had become even mustier, and the singular window even dirtier. This time she paid no attention to the alluring mysteries of the room, and headed to the window with one goal in mind.

Yes, maybe from this height, she could...

The snow had stopped falling, though she couldn't say when. Didn't care, either. She stepped out into the night, letting the chill embrace her. If Mickey was dead, she'd merely be joining him. Yes, this was for the best, wasn't it? Everyone would be better off without her. She stepped onto the terrace, and then onto the edge, looking out across the village. Nothing here would ever change, even if one by one they were snatched away by the Snow Queen. Even if one girl ceased to be, it would still go on. No one would miss her. No one would care.

Everything would feel better if she just gave up.

She inhaled deeply – and then flinched as a harsh wind blew around her. It felt like a slap to the face, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a red petal fly in front of her.

The color stood out so brilliantly that it stopped Minnie completely. She blinked several times, assuring herself that it wasn't an illusion. But where had it come from? She faltered, and then fell backwards with a little “Oof!”, sitting on hard dirt. But what was dirt doing...? The memories came back all at once – Mickey's attempt at a garden.

There, surrounded by dozens of other dead attempts at the same flower, stood one singular red rose. It was even more beautiful than the illustration in Mickey's books, a red she'd never seen in any food or clothing before. She felt her mouth open in shock, and as she observed the area around the rare flower, she could see this hadn't been Mickey's first attempt. He'd dug various holes, planted many seeds, and although each one kept dying, he still attempted. He never told Minnie about this, perhaps not wanting to get her hopes up until he finally succeeded. How many times had he tried? Five? Ten? Twenty? She was losing count. And he'd done this for years, and years, and years.

An image came to her then, of little Mickey stubbornly making another dirty hole with his fingers and planting the seed, tucking it in gently with a proud smile on his face. He didn't have any proof it would work, yet he saw no reason to stop. He kept trying. He never gave up on it.

And he never gave up on Minnie, either. Even as the Snow Queen had loomed over him, he had told her to leave Minnie be.

Minnie heaved, and then covered her mouth for what she knew was to come – a scream. An agonizing, horrible scream as her body allowed her to properly grieve. Hot tears flooded her eyes, making the world a blur. Here she had been ready to throw away her life, when Mickey had done everything in his power to protect her. What had she been about to do? She choked hard on her sobs, wishing she could apologize to Mickey for her selfishness. He had been trying so hard to convey what she couldn't understand until this rose showed her – she had a reason to live, and he was that reason.

Her hands dropped, clenching the dirt. She couldn't go on living without him, so what was there to do? He wasn't going to return, no one ever came back from the Snow Queen's grasp. As her cries died down, her eyes staying on the rose, the rest of her mind began to settle. If one took away all obvious options, such as staying here and waiting, then... really, there was only one thing to do.

Minnie had to get Mickey back.

She blinked at the rose, not surprised when a slightly rational part of her chided this idea. What could a stupid, weak girl like her possibly do against the powerful Snow Queen? How would she even find the magical witch? What if she got a shard in her just like Mickey did? There were a million reasons not to do this. Yet they all seemed inconsequential to the one obvious truth.

Minnie wanted him back. So that was that.

After swallowing once, she brushed down her clothes, and then crept over to the rose. Mickey had left some tools around the garden, and she used his small pocketknife to chip away the thorns on the rose. With that accomplished, she plucked it out of the dirt and placed it behind her left ear. It would do well as a reminder of her goal, a part of him that was always with her.

She looked back at the window, and understood she had to do this now, and quickly. If her parents discovered what she was going to attempt, they'd surely stop her. No doubt the rest of the village would feel the same way. It was now or never. She came back to the window, crawling inside, and left the attic. She found her school satchel, and emptied the books out – she could only afford to grab a few things, and she didn't want to risk making too much noise and waking up her parents. She held onto Mickey's pocketknife, tucking it in first, along with a few vegetables for food. She didn't want to deprive her parents of anything necessary, and genuinely didn't know how long this would take.

With her satchel over her shoulders, she headed out into the snow. Minnie knew that the Snow Queen's sled had come from the woods, so, logically, she must go into the woods. Surely if she walked around long enough, she'd have to come across her lair eventually, even if it meant going all over the world. Her knowledge of what laid beyond the village was minimal, as the school hadn't seen any worth in teaching it. Part of her knew she was wholly unprepared, but she still walked forward, the world silent save for her footsteps crunching on powder.

After a certain point, they crunched something else. Minnie stopped and looked down, seeing a familiar glint buried beneath the snow. After a moment of hesitation, she bent down to dig it out – and there lay the necklace that Mickey had bought for her.

_“Will you be my bride?”_

She never gave him an answer. He deserved one. If she couldn't bring him back to the village, she could at least give him an answer. She brushed the snow off the necklace, seeing her unwanted reflection in the red, and tucked it into her satchel. She didn't feel she was worthy of wearing it. Not until she told Mickey what she wanted to say.

With that settled, Minnie continued walking towards the woods. She had never ventured in there before, and the closer she got, the taller the trees became. By the time she was definitely inside the woods, they seemed to stretch on forever into the heavens. She walked on, eyes flitting here and there, rather curious about this place she'd never reached before. She had expected to be frightened, and while she was, it didn't wholly consume her. She walked and walked and walked, walked as hunger began to nibble at her belly, as exhaustion tugged at her ankles, as sleep tried to nudge her eyelids.

She walked on as the sun began to rise, and the tree's shadows crisscrossed over her, and she felt an odd comfort in that. It was if the trees were watching over her, and giving their blessings for her journey. She knew it was a silly thought, but one Mickey would chuckle one. At first she heard him chuckling, but then realized what she was actually hearing – there was a rustle in the tree's branches in front of her.

Minnie slowed her walk to a stop, and it was only due to the dawn's sunlight that she saw what was making the sound. There, at a very low branch, was a large black raven, cleaning its wing with its beak. Minnie found herself smiling – animals were getting rarer to see with every passing year, so this was a treat. She observed the cute thing with its dark feathers and green eyes. The bird finished cleaning, and then met Minnie's eyes, blinking at her.

“Hello, pretty bird,” said Minnie.

“Hello, pretty girl,” said the bird.

Minnie almost walked on, except – wait a minute. She then whirled her head back to the tree, startled. While her education was severely limited, even she knew that birds weren't supposed to talk. She stared hard at the raven, wondering if she'd lost her mind. She was glad she was alone when she asked, “Did you just speak?”

“It would've been awfully rude if I didn't, don't you think?” the raven replied, leaning his head down to get a better look at her.

Minnie waited a bit, then pinched her cheek – this was real life, all right. “But... but birds don't talk.”

“And yet here I am, talking away.” The raven clicked his tongue. “You may be a pretty thing, but you're not terribly bright, I see. After all, what is a young one like you walking alone in these woods for?”

It was a fair question, and Minnie decided that trying to find sound reason in the bird's existence wouldn't get her anywhere. “I'm... The Snow Queen took my friend, so I'm going to bring him back.” It sounded so simple when she said it out loud, despite the very words themselves being impossible.

The raven appeared to think the same way, as after he was finished gawking at her, he began to laugh, one wing on his belly. “ _You?_ You think YOU can bring back one of the Snow Queen's prisoners?” He laughed more, hopping on the branch, and Minnie patiently waited for him to run out of breath. She was rather annoyed at his reaction, but couldn't blame him, so there was no use in getting angry about it. “What makes you think you can do what no one else has done? You're not even headed in the right direction!”

Minnie's eyes widened, and she sprinted towards the tree. “Does that mean _you_ know where it is?” 

The raven snapped his beak shut, and then looked away, pretending to be an average, ordinary bird. He even tried to chirp, but it sounded more like a grown adult mimicking a pitiful bird call than a real one. Minnie gave him a curt look, and he grumbled, “So what if I did know?”

“Oh please, pretty bird,” Minnie begged, her hands on the tree, trying to tippy-toe up to implore as best she could. “Please show me where the Snow Queen lives! I must get my friend back, I must tell him what he needs to hear!”

“And why should I do such a thing?” the raven asked her, its beady eyes squinting. “What can you do for me?”

It only occurred to Minnie now that she hadn't brought any money or anything truly worth exchanging. She felt dumber than ever, and fished around in her satchel for something she hoped a bird would crave. “I have some tasty vegetables!”

“Pass. I'm full.”

“How about a pocketknife?”

“Pass. My beak and my claws do plenty.”

That left her with just the necklace, and Minnie was reluctant to part with it. She glanced at the raven, and then at the satchel, before closing it up and walking away. “All right. Goodbye, pretty bird.”

The raven stared at her back, incredulous, and then jumped off the branch, flying to the next tree. “Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong with you? Aren't you mad at me?”

“No,” which wasn't entirely true, but as always, Minnie felt no need to feel. “I don't have anything to give you, so I'll just have to find her myself.”

“You'll never find her on your own! You'll wither and die long before that! If you had any brains between those big ears of yours, you'd go back home.” But no matter how much he insulted her and informed her about chances that she was more than well aware of, she didn't stop. Minnie continued to walk on, face forward, never looking back. The raven flitted from tree to tree, and Minnie found herself walking towards the trees he occupied.

Was she just lonely, or was he leading her around? Minnie quietly hoped he wasn't trying to take her back to the village, but to her relief, they came upon a riverbank. A few empty wooden fishing boats lay on the shore with abandoned nets, with Minnie remembering that the fish supply was getting low. The raven flew to the closest boat and sat on the edge. “See, you'll never get anywhere now. The river is barely moving. It'll take you forever and a half to get there, you'll never last.”

Minnie raised her eyebrows. “I was thinking of walking along the river's edge. Are you saying it's faster to get there by boat?” When the raven said nothing, she spoke again. “I think you do actually want to help me, pretty bird. You're just being very silly about it. Would you like to come with me?”

“What I said still stands,” the raven huffed, turning his cheek away, ruffling his black feathers. “Look at the river, it's at a standstill. You can't force the tide. You'll have to walk, and then you'll get tired and cry and give up. You people aren't made for the stuff it takes.”

Didn't that just raise a whole new field of questions? But Minnie was certain if she tried to ask directly, the raven would dodge them. She looked at the river, and then approached it until the water almost touched her shoes. She saw herself reflected in the clear water, and thought, and thought, and thought.

“Do you know what they call your village?” the raven asked, leaning back and forth on the boat. “They say it's the land of the walking corpses. You people may as well be dead already, if not on the outside.” Minnie didn't know if this was true, or if he was just trying to rile her up. He certainly was a strange one, and thus Minnie decided she had to embrace just how weird her entire trip was going to be. It gave her an odd sense of freedom, and she nodded to herself.

“Maybe if I give the river something, it'll help me,” she decided out loud.

The raven stared at her, and then scoffed. “ _Give_ the river something? You are truly insane, pretty girl. What sort of gift could a _river_ want?”

Minnie couldn't imagine a river could want, but that wasn't the point of the gesture. She thought of the villagers who complained when they lost things when fishing, only to be educated by their peers that complaining would solve nothing, they should be grateful for what they kept, so on and so forth. “People lose things by accident in the water,” Minnie concluded, and then bent over. “But no one's ever given you anything on purpose, have they?”

The raven shook his head. “The girl's talking to a river. What a loon.”

Unfazed, Minnie went on. “It's not much, but it's what I can afford to give you. I don't know if you can take me all the way to where the Snow Queen is... but if you could give me any sort of help, I would be grateful. My friend was taken away, and he asked me something very important. I need to give him an answer.” With that, she slid off her shoes, and pushed them into the water.

“That's not going to...” The raven began, trailing off as the shoes floated in the water, and then were pushed back onto the dry shore.

Minnie took a deep breath. “Please, river! Please, take them. I must see my friend again, please, please!” She bent her head low, and the raven noted this was the first spot of emotion, aside from surprise, he'd seen from her.

The water pushed forward, and then back, swallowing up the shoes. The river rippled, and then began to churn forward, slowly, and the boat the raven was sitting on began to rock. Minnie sighed in relief, and then began to climb into the boat. “Thank you very much, river. When I come home, I will tell everyone to clean you up.” The boat was small, simple, able to fit two, which for Minnie was more than enough. It floated quietly on the stream and began to leave the shore.

“That shouldn't have worked,” the raven grumbled, though he didn't move.

Minnie placed her satchel down on the bottom. “Maybe it was just good luck,” she offered in an attempt to appease her companion.

However, it did the opposite, as the bird suddenly jerked, and its green eyes hardened. “What... did you say?”

“I said, maybe it was just good luck?”

Suddenly the bird flew at her face, screeching, “DON'T YOU EVER SAY _THAT WORD_ AGAIN!” And Minnie gave a cry of surprise, gripping the boat's side so she wouldn't fall out.

“W-what word?” She stammered, worried he might try to claw her face with his sharp talons or his rough beak.

“LUCK!” he snapped at her, and although he came close to her eyes he didn't once hurt her. “Luck is the mindset of the fool! The epitome of stupidity! Anyone who relies on luck should be hung from their feet and made to suffer for all eternity! If you ever say that word in front of me again, I'll leave you and never return!” He then flew to the opposite end of the boat and sat, his wings shuddering, his back to her.

Minnie blinked slowly, natural curiosity making her wonder what in the world could have happened to him to make him despise such a word. She sat up slowly, smoothing down her dress, and tried to think of what to say. They floated along the river in silence for a moment. “I'm sorry,” she finally attempted. “I didn't mean to upset you, pretty bird. You have my word, I'll never say lu-... that word again.”

The raven turned his head, although he didn't look back at her yet. “I suppose you have little fault, you didn't know.” His voice was much softer now, and he appeared to be looking at his form in the water. When he spoke again, it was once more arrogant and haughty. “But if we're to do this impossible quest, you need to give me your name. Can't go calling you pretty girl all the time, it will give you a swelled head.”

Fair enough. Minnie sat up straighter. “My name is Minnie... but, then, what do I call you?”

Again, the raven looked at himself, and then with one hop, he turned around. “You will call me Ratface,” he declared, as if he thought it to be terribly clever.

Minnie blinked slowly. Whenever people discussed rats in her home, it was usually as a derogatory term. “Are you sure? It doesn't sound very nice.” It seemed very rude to call someone that, especially one who was going to help her, reluctant and strange though the help may be.

“It's what you will call me,” Ratface replied, waving a wing to dismiss the matter. “And I will respond to nothing else. If you can't handle that, you may as well go back home.”

She sighed quietly to herself. “Very well... Ratface.” In her mind's eye, she could see Mickey reacting to the raven with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement. She couldn't recognize that these were actually her own feelings, as they were so foreign. “Ratface, may I take a nap? I have not slept in some time, and if this is going to be such a long journey, I'd like to get some sleep. Will you wake me up when the boat has reached the shore?”

“I might,” Ratface said, and Minnie understood this was as good as she was going to get from him.

“Thank you, Ratface. For everything.” She then moved until she was on the floor of the small boat, and rested her head upon her satchel, her eyes closed. Ratface walked along the boat's edge, observing her quietly. His eyes were on her lips, which smiled so strangely, as if she could not tell she had been smiling. This was the sort of girl the world of the Snow Queen produced, so he thought. What would she have been like if there wasn't a Snow Queen?

Add that to his extremely long list of “what if”s. He waited until he saw the natural rise and fall of her chest, and then dipped his wing into the river. The water was warm, which didn't surprise him any. He'd lived long enough to know that the whole world was full of mysteries and monsters, and sometimes you'd never get an explanation for things. Some rivers listened. Some did not. Some people listened. Some did not.

He then walked quietly onto the boat's floor, and used his wet wing to lightly clean bits of Minnie's hair that been ravaged by her dormant stages of grief, and then smoothing it out with his beak. He then laid beside her, his dry wing covering her eyes so the sun wouldn't disturb her. He didn't sleep himself, didn't have to. He tried not to think of the “what if”s, and yet one inevitably came.

What if Minnie was the one?

~*~

Mickey had drifted in and out of consciousness during his capture, so it was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he arrived in... well, of that, he wasn't sure either. He seized onto this moment with all the strength he had, which was barely any, and as his vision tried to straighten, he saw himself reflected everywhere – on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor, as if he was surrounded by ice. He wasn't standing by his own will – the two riders of the sled were holding him up by the arms, not paying him any attention otherwise. He tried to find his voice, and it came out in harsh breaths. “Wh-who... are you...?”

But they didn't acknowledge him. Their blue eyes stayed ahead, unblinking, their touch as cold as death. He heard footsteps, which was easy – whatever this place was, it was so large and empty that any noise echoed endlessly. It was no great shock who the footsteps came from. The Snow Queen approached the trio, staff in hand, eyes on him. Mickey gave in to anger easily, and tried to wrestle his arms out of their grasp, but all it amounted to was a pathetic wiggling of his fingers. “Y-You...” It hurt to speak, yet he felt he must. “Can't make me... stop... loving her...”

“I can,” the Snow Queen said casually, and then she touched his cheek, her cold touch like daggers slicing his skin. “I must admit... you've held on longer than most. But in the end, you will be like all the others. If you give up now, the rest of this will go much smoother.”

Had Mickey the strength, he would have spat at her feet. Granted, had Mickey the strength, there was a lot he'd like to do. Instead, his body gave his strength to his eyes, which allowed him to see what lay beyond the icy walls – and horror grew inside his chest.

Soldiers, just like the ones at his sides, hundreds of them, men, women, old, young, staying absolutely still. All of them with the same blue eyes, and Mickey knew what his fate would be – what the fate of all those who had dared to love had been. What words could he say that they didn't say before their time was up? “Why...” he breathed, chest hitching. “Why are you... doing this? I just want her... to be happy... It's not fair...” It was childish at this point, but it was all he had.

The Snow Queen began her ritual, holding the staff with two hands, and the mirror began to glow. The crack in the glass began to spread. “One shard to freeze your mind...”

Whatever was to come next, there was no turning back. “You would understand, if you just... If you just... tried to love someone!”

The impact those words had on the Snow Queen was immediate – her entire body clenched, and there was a pain in her eyes so deep and wretched that took her away to a time years ago. No wonder this boy reminded her of - She staggered, teeth clenched, and when she spoke again, it was a hiss. “Two shards... to freeze your heart!”

So she _had_ – this time the shard came without needing the third commandment, large and sharp as a knife, cutting off Mickey's thoughts so harshly he did not have the ability to scream. The color vanished from his fur, from his face, leaving nothing but white skin and blue eyes. But this transformation was much more painful, contorting the bones and muscles underneath until they were hard and cold, his clothes transforming into the armor that all the other soldiers donned. In his mind, he could see the village vanishing, his people vanishing, and Minnie, Minnie, Minnie, he wanted to call her name, to announce that nothing and no one could stop him from loving her, he just wanted to see her smile again, Minnie - 

And then she was gone.

Mickey's head slumped forward... and then rose slowly, his body straightening up. The soldiers at his side released him. The Snow Queen breathed deeply, then softly, settling back into her calm demeanor. That had been nothing. She felt nothing. Anything the boy had tried to dredge up was dead and buried. What she was doing was her right. Love brought nothing but pain to this world, and it was her duty to eliminate it. She was saving this world.

The continuing winter and snow, that was punishment for those who continued to love. If everyone would just give up, they could see the greenery again. Yet there would always be fools, so there would always be suffering.

With that in mind, she raised her hand over the floor, and summoned up a new weapon for her new soldier – a blade of ice, and Mickey took it wordlessly. “As my newest soldier, you will prove your worth. There are lands that continue to defy me... and they will have to be punished.”

The staff began to shrink down, until the mirror could be held in her hands. With this, she could see all that she wished to see, and the mirror glowed before giving an image. “You will head for the Golden Kingdom, and you will take the princess.” The soldiers didn't respond, not that she expected them to, as the mirror showed the image of a young woman with yellow curls twirling around in a new blue dress.

The image then began to change, to show someone else, to show what she once wished to see – and she quickly threw it to the floor before she saw it. How bothersome, to think that her magic could still have flaws after all these years.

How bothersome to think that she could still have flaws after all these years. But they would be fixed. The world would be fixed. Even if it took her until the end of time, love would die.

Only then would the world know peace, and wasn't it the duty of any angel to give the world peace?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Minnie begins her journey, she discovers beautiful treasures, but may fall prey to the dangers beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> Originally "Mother" was going to be Mortimer, but I decided that would be too creepy. Also, certain lines should give away who she is, eh?

_Minnie was cold, endlessly cold, and she couldn't move. She lay with her back on the ice, the cold eating up her toes, then her feet, her ankles, her legs... every nerve in her body screamed in agony before going completely numb. She searched for her voice to cry for help, but now she felt the cold in her lungs, pricking her insides, clawing its way up her throat, and then she felt a pair of hands on her neck , the Snow Queen -_

_“But you... just... wouldn't... learn... your... PLACE!”_

She woke up with a shriek, startling Ratface so much he jumped into the air, flapping his wings erratically. “Oh, me, oh my!” He then alighted on the side of the boat, looking around for whatever enemy had suddenly approached. Once he realized it was nothing and no one, he sighed hard, rubbing his feathers on his chest. “Sheesh... you nearly gave me a heart attack, pretty girl! You intend to scare me to death?”

Minnie didn't say anything, breathing hard, trying to remember where she was and why she was here. Slowly she touched her neck, relieved that it had been a nightmare – and hoping it wasn't a prediction of things to come. “I-I'm sorry...” she murmured, taking a long look at her surroundings. “I have bad dreams every now and then.” The boat had stopped, nudged between several large rocks on a grassy shore. The water still kept churning, but the boat would go no further. “I think this is far as we can go.”

“'Every now and then',” Ratface repeated with a grumble as Minnie collected her satchel. “If you do this every time you sleep, I'll fly away right now, I swear it. Nightmares aren't supposed to last that long. You're supposed to be an adult. You ought to do something about it.”

Minnie hoisted her satchel over her shoulder before sparing him a look. “Like what?”

Ratface huffed. “Must I think of everything?”

Minnie quickly decided Ratface liked to complain for the sake of complaining. He'd never fit in if he lived in the village. She climbed out of the boat, and walked through the chilly water before making it to solid ground. It was a little painful, since she had no shoes. She almost called Ratface lucky for not having nightmares, but remembered his rage for that word, and tried to form the thought in a different way. “Do you have trouble sleeping, Ratface?”

“I don't like to sleep.” Ratface watched her until she was on dry land, and then flew to her shoulder, perching perfectly. He was a bit heavy, but Minnie didn't mind. “I find it to be terribly lazy. I bore easily.”

“But everyone needs to sleep. How do you get your rest if you don't sleep?”

“How do you mind your own business if you keep yapping on?”

Goodness gracious – talking with Ratface was like going two steps forward and one step back. No wonder the bird had been all by himself when Minnie came upon him. She wondered if anyone else could stand him if he kept going back and forth with his answers. She didn't want to think this way – she should be grateful for any help she had – but he could stand to be a little nicer. The old standard from the village kept her from saying so - What was the point? If she was grateful, then why make things bothersome? But the thought lingered on her mind, and bounced on her tongue without ever leaving her mouth.

They walked on the greenest grass Minnie had ever seen, and her eyes kept going down, marveling at its beauty. “Do you think anyone would mind if I took some of this grass with me? It's so nice to look at.”

“Maybe we'll need it in case a cow needs a gift,” Ratface said with a snicker.

Minnie bent down to snatch a handful. “That would be nice. It could give us some milk in exchange.”

Ratface stopped snickering. “You don't know what sarcasm is, do you?” When Minnie merely blinked at him, he ran his feathers down his face. “No wonder I can't get a rise out of you. How do you expect to survive in this world if you can't stand up for yourself? I bet I could smack your face and you'd apologize for it.”

Minnie placed the grass inside her satchel and continued walking. “I don't think you'd hurt me... at least, not unless you had a good reason for it.” She wished they never came upon such a reason, but one could never be entirely sure.

“And that's another thing. You trust far too easily. How do you know I'm not leading you into a trap?”

“I don't think you are. Are you?”

The raven made a frustrated “ _harrrumph_ ” deep in his throat, which Minnie thought was kind of cute. It reminded her of when she first started feeding Figaro – he'd inch closer, then retreat if Minnie moved, trying to pretend he wasn't interested. Perhaps like the kitten, Ratface just needed to be won over with simple kindness. She moved to gently brush the top of his head with her finger.

“I am not a pet,” he growled, but he didn't stop her.

They walked on for what felt like many a mile, Minnie's feet aching terribly. Just as her legs would shake and she would wonder if she was fit to collapse, Ratface would suddenly complain that she was moving too fast and she needed to stop before he emptied his stomach. He demanded she sit so he could clean his feathers which she “ruffled up with her pigeon fingers”, which took some time. Funny how when she was able to walk again, her body felt better. This happened quite a few times.

At midday, with Minnie's stomach beginning to growl, she was about to stop to eat the vegetables she brought along, when the sight of something miraculous destroyed her hunger. “Oh!” she gasped, “Ratface, look at that!”

“Must I?” Ratface jumped off of her shoulder just as Minnie began to sprint forward, still amazed at what she was seeing.

There, in this endless green, lay a garden of hundreds of different colored flowers, the likes of which Minnie had never seen before. These were even beyond the boundaries of Mickey's books, with petals of varying shapes and mixed colors that blew her imagination way. They circled around a quaint house with a rusty red rooftop, and the windows were hidden by velvet red curtains. Minnie paid no mind to the house, going from flower to flower to marvel at their appearance. “I've never seen anything like these!” Minnie declared, running her fingers along soft purple buds. “Mickey would love these... Maybe I can take some of them with me.”

“We shouldn't be here, pretty girl,” Ratface said, now perched on the edge of the roof. “We must get going.”

Minnie knew he was right, but everywhere she turned there was a new flower to adore, and she found it difficult to tear herself away. “But they're all so beautiful! Are these kinds of flowers that we'll see as we go to the Snow Queen?”

“You won't know if you don't get moving,” Ratface replied, but his usual barbed demeanor had sharpened, and he paced along the edge, trying to urge Minnie along, his feathers tightly slicked. “Flowers are flowers, they're just plants, now stop planting yourself in one place and go!”

Was he being rude again for the sake of being rude? Minnie was getting tired of that attitude – and that's when the door began to loudly creak open. Minnie stopped where she was, as did Ratface, as a pale hand emerged from the darkness within.

“Is someone there?” the owner of the hand whispered.

Ratface jerked his head to the side urgently, trying to signal that Minnie should get out of there – but that would be so disrespectful! Minnie placed her hands together, hoping she hadn't disturbed the owner of the household. “I'm sorry, miss. We were just passing through.”

“Oh, my, my, my.” The door then opened all the way, and out stepped a lovely older woman, smiling serenely at Minnie. Her dark hair curled up around her shoulders, swaying with her as she walked out into the sunshine. Her dress was as red as the rose tucked behind Minnie's ear, with yellow trimmings along the sleeves and bottom. “It's been ages since I've had company. What's a little thing like you doing here all by your lonesome?”

“I'm not by my lonesome,” Minnie explained, pointing to the bird who slapped his wing to his face. “Ratface, come say hello.”

The woman's kind face instantly hardened, and when she glared at Ratface, Minnie nearly thought the raven would molt. “I despise birds,” she hissed, clutching her arms. “They're filthy creatures, rats with wings... what an appropriate name.” Ratface blew a raspberry, but didn't speak. The woman then instantly became all smiles again as she approached Minnie. “But enough about him. Who are you, who trespassed into my garden, dear one?”

Minnie felt a sting of guilt. “Oh, I... I'm Minnie, miss. I really didn't mean to trespass. I should get going...”

“Nonsense!” The woman placed her hand on Minnie's shoulder. “You just got here, why leave so soon? Look at you, you have no shoes! Which I guess I should be grateful about, since you would have destroyed my garden otherwise with all your stomping around.” She laughed a bit, pushing Minnie. “It's a joke, dear.”

Was it? What was the punchline? “I... I guess it couldn't hurt to rest my feet a bit.”

“Exactly. Come inside, I'll make you some tea, we'll chat, you'll relax, and if you want to go, you'll feel much better about everything.” She didn't seem to be giving Minnie much choice about it, given how forcefully she was shoving Minnie into the house.

Minnie cast one more look at Ratface, whose emerald eyes seemed to be... sad? “What about my friend?”

“Friend? That's no friend,” the woman scoffed, shutting the door behind them. “What kind of friend treats you like that? I couldn't help but overhear you earlier. He's always insulting you, isn't he? I bet he was just using you, playing with his prey. What an awful animal.” The inside of the house was much larger than the outside should have been, and Minnie looked back and forth between the interior and the door, confused. There were many rooms, and the thin, red carpet led to each one like an arrow. Shelves lined every wall, and on each shelf was a porcelain doll. Each doll had a unique dress, and a unique style of hair, but they all wore the same dull, lifeless expression that stared into nothing.

“Let me get that for you,” the woman said as she slid Minnie's satchel off her back.

Minnie whipped around, surprised at how easily it came off. “B-But that's my-”

“Relax, dear! Do you think I'm a thief, after I've let you into my house out of the goodness of my heart?”

The younger girl felt herself shrinking. “N-No, of course not, miss, but... there are some very important things in there.”

“So we shall take very important care of them.” Which apparently meant hanging it on an empty coat rack. “And enough of this 'miss' stuff. You can call me Mother.”

“Mother?” Minnie repeated, perplexed by such a title. But it would be rude to say no, wouldn't it? “Thank you... Mother.”

Mother's smile grew, and she slid out a small trinket from her sleeve – a glass comb. “Much better. Now, stay still – if you're going to stay here, you can't look like too much of a mess.” She bent over and ran the comb through Minnie's hair. “There, now you don't look half as strange! Another joke, dear, do lighten up.”

Again, Minnie failed to see what was so funny, but... didn't seem to mind as much, this time. Perhaps Mother earned her name, because that was a very motherly touch. “Thank you, Mother.”

Mother tucked the comb back into her sleeve, and the two went into a modest dining room, where Minnie was encouraged to sit on a plush sofa where piping hot tea and strawberry scones were already waiting. To Minnie's weary stomach, it was like being at a fabulous banquet, and she sighed blissfully as the warm tea nestled in her body. “You have such a lovely house, Mother. None of the houses in my village look like this, not even the Mayor's.”

Mother went around the room, propping up any of the dolls that seemed to slide askew. “You must come from an incredibly ugly village. I can't stand to have ugly things in my house. If I were you, I'd never go back to such a disgusting place. I can't believe your mother would let you leave.”

Minnie looked down at her reflection in the tea. “I... I didn't tell her. I ran away from home.” Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw Ratface at the window, but quickly looked away, not wanting to reveal his location to Mother. Her stomach tightened – it felt wrong to hide Ratface, but at the same time, she didn't want to upset this woman who opened her door to her. It was an odd series of conflicting thoughts. Why had been Ratface been so stubborn? Was he jealous?

“Oh, you poor thing.” Mother sat beside Minnie, taking out the comb again. “She must have been a terrible mother for you to leave without a single word.”

“She's...” Minnie's grip on the tea cup tightened. “She's not... I just didn't want to burden her. I don't think she'd understand what I'm trying to do.” Was it wrong to leave without saying anything? Would Mama and Papa have fought tooth and nail to keep her in the village? Or would they have let her go without any effort? She had been so sure about her choice when first making it, but now...?

Mother began to comb Minnie's hair again, over and over. “But for her not to even notice you were leaving? That's not a good mother. I'd never let my daughters leave.”

The comb felt so soothing in Minnie's hair, and Minnie was thankful to have someone attend to her so tenderly. Mother's daughters must have cared for her very much, so Minnie thought. Mother began to hum a light lullaby, and Minnie closed her eyes, not as hungry anymore. Yes, Mother was very good to her. When was the last time Mama did anything like this? When was the last time Mama reached out for her?

… Didn't... Mama reach out to her... once?

_Marcus, open the door!_

… Who was Marcus?

The tea cup felt heavy in Minnie's hands, and it spilled on her dress, waking her up. “Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry!” Thankfully it hadn't gotten on the couch or floor, but when Minnie tried to stand up, her legs felt rigid – she wobbled before finding balance, as if her knees were refusing to bend.

“Quite all right, dear.” Mother stood up. “Some people think clumsiness is cute. I'm not some people, but let's assume it was said.” She took the cup from Minnie's hand, placing it aside. “We'll get rid of your rags and dress you up in something nicer.”

Minnie looked up, taken aback by such generosity, and smiled. “You're too kind, Mother.”

“I am, aren't I? Don't worry about it. It's like I said – I hate having ugly things in my house, and this just works out, doesn't it?” Again, she held Minnie by the shoulder and pushed her into another room - a walk-in closet full of shimmering dresses, of all the colors of the rainbow – just like the garden, Minnie mused, wondering if there was any connection. Her legs still felt funny, but maybe she'd just been sitting down for too long. There didn't seem to be any reason to worry about it.

“Let me see...” Mother went through the hanging dresses, trying to pick the right one. “Which one would be best for you?”

“I like red,” Minnie offered.

“Dear, it is so adorable when you offer an opinion no one asked for!” Mother laughed, lightly patting Minnie on the head as if she were a child. “You remind me of so many of my other daughters. All of them so eager to please, always happy to do whatever I asked of them.” She resumed the dress hunt, going with green pastel with fluffy sleeves. “That's the great thing about being a mother. You give and you give without asking anything in return. Now, put this on.”

Minnie held out her hands to take it – but stopped. The dress, while nice, wasn't made for traveling. The long skirt would drag down in the dirt, and the giant sleeves would make sleeping difficult. Traveling – she couldn't afford to stay here that long, could she? “I... It's very lovely, Mother, but is it okay if I keep the clothes I have?”

Mother raised an eyebrow, still holding the dress up. “If you hate it that much, why don't you spit it on it?”

“No! No, no, no!” Minnie flailed, though her arms were starting to feel odd too. “I don't hate it! It's... I have to travel a long way, and I don't think it will help. You should save something that nice for your daughters.”

“Oh, I would, but they're so... terribly ungrateful.” Mother sighed as she hung it back up. “I give, and they take, I give, and they take... do I ask for so much? A little company, is that so selfish of me to want? It gets so lonely in this house of mine, so anyone who stops by is like a savior at my darkest hour.” Another sigh, longer and louder this time, an arm to her forehead. “Don't look at me that way. Now I'm the bad guy.”

“No, no, you're not, you're not the bad guy...” Minnie's stomach hurt. She didn't want the dress, but she didn't want to hurt Mother either. “What if I clean up my clothes myself? I'll do all the work.” She walked out the closet – and stumbled, because, surely, they just left the living room, but now they were in a room that contained nothing but dolls, floor to ceiling. Three square windows allowed sunshine to highlight their blank faces, and a single wooden step-stool sat in the middle. “Wasn't...?”

“I get it now.” Mother lightly pat Minnie's head. “You're so exhausted, you can't think straight! What am I doing, trying to dress you up when you can't even stand up? Have a seat, we'll make things right.”

Minnie sat down on the stool, feeling as if all the eyes in the room were on her. Her knees still wouldn't bend, and she felt awkward in this position, until she felt the comb in her hair again. “There, there,” said Mother. “Don't you feel better now?”

She did, really. Much better. “I'm sorry for making such a fuss, Mother.”

“At least you acknowledged it. So many of my daughters refused to apologize. I don't know where I went wrong.” Her hand stayed on Minnie's shoulder, the comb sliding through, over and over. “But we can always start over. A good mother never lets her daughter go.”

A good mother... Was Minnie's mother a good mother? … Didn't she call her mother something else..?

“And a good daughter never leaves her mother.”

… A good daughter... left... a place... where...?

“We'll just get rid of everything ugly, so the only thing that remains is beautiful.”

Minnie's eyelids felt heavy, and so did the rest of her body. Soon all she could feel was the tender comb, Mother's embrace, and the rigidness in her legs climbed up. She thought she heard banging on the window, which was impossible, because there wasn't... anyone else here... It was just... Minnie and Mother...

“For starters, we'll get rid of this vile weed.” Mother's bony fingers took the rose from Minnie's hair, and lightly tossed it to the floor - 

_“Will you be my bride?”_

Like water bursting from a dam, everything flooded back into Minnie's brain at once, and she shrieked, “No!” diving into the floor to catch the flower with her hands, knocking the step-stool over. How could she have forgotten that important question? She tried to get up – and couldn't. “I can't... I can't feel my legs!”

The middle window burst open, glass falling to the floor, as Ratface had used his entire body as a battering ram. Ignoring the glass shards in his feathers, he flew at Mother, pecking at her face, “I won't let you do it, not again!”

Mother grabbed Ratface by the throat, and threw him to the floor as if he were nothing more than a rag-doll. “Stay out of my way, traitor! You made your peace! She's going to make a lovely addition to my collection.”

Minnie pushed herself onto her back, and was able to see that her legs had become – porcelain! Shiny and solid, and as her eyes flew to each doll, she saw what could be her fate. Here she thought the Snow Queen was the only frightening thing in this world – but no, the world had plenty of other horrors in store. How long had this gone on? How many girls had been in Minnie's place, their legs nearly gone as fear overcame their senses? “You... all of these girls! How could you?” How could Minnie? She nearly let it happen! What had she done?

“I'm assuming you mean morally, and not physically.” Mother scoffed, kicking her foot into Ratface's belly. “Don't try to fight it. My comb contains a shard from the Snow Queen... a little of my own magic, and it becomes the perfect tool to help me keep all my daughters. All of them tried to run away... but now they don't remember where they were running to. And why should they? The outside world is a dangerous place, and they're perfectly safe here. After all, Mother knows best.”

“It's not too late! You won't have her!” Ratface tried to get up, but Mother kicked him in the stomach, sending him rolling, laughing even harder at his attempt.

Hundreds of questions were flooding Minnie's mind, but she went deaf to them, compared to the fate of the injured bird in the corner. “Stop it!” But what could she do? Her legs were useless, and if that comb touched her again, she knew she'd lose the rest of her body – and even then, the next poor girl to stumble upon this place would be lost to the same fate. What could someone as weak and helpless as her do? Mother wasn't even looking at her, no doubt expecting her to give up.

… Would that... be such a bad thing? Minnie's eyes rested on the comb in Mother's fingers. Maybe...

Just as Mother was about to kick Ratface again, Minnie cried out once more, “I won't fight anymore! If you leave him alone, I'll do whatever you want!”

Now this got Mother's attention, just as she pulled back her foot again. She raised an eyebrow, and then smiled that same sweet, venomous smile as if all was right in the world. “There now, see? Everything is as it should be. Was there ever really a need for all this fuss?” She calmly walked to Minnie's side, and Ratface raised his head, his green eyes wide with horror, then closing them in despair. As if this was all too familiar.

Mother slowly helped Minnie sit up, running her fingers through Minnie's hair. “What a good girl you are. You'll be the shining jewel of my collection... until someone prettier comes along. And, let's face it, it's not exactly a reach, dear. Oh, I'm joking! None of you ever learn how to take a joke.” She tsked, and then held out the comb. “A few more strokes ought to do it... just relax...” Minnie felt the comb in her hair - 

And with the remaining strength left in her body, she turned sharply, and snatched the comb with her teeth!

Mother shrieked - “What are you doing?!” - and smacked Minnie across the face, but even as Minnie fell, she would not let go of the comb. Ratface quickly lifted his head, shocked, and Minnie bit down on the comb, hard, hard, hard – her mouth ached, her teeth hurt, and Mother kept smacking her, screaming at her to stop – Minnie felt cracks forming in the comb, and saw cracks forming along Mother's lovely skin - 

“STOP IT, YOU WRETCHED GIRL!” Mother's hands came around Minnie's neck, trying to strangle her, but her grip was weakening with every crack of the comb. “STOP IT NOW! YOU UGLY CHILD, YOU HORRIBLE DAUGHTER, NO ONE ELSE WILL TAKE YOU IN!” Yet for all the pain, Minnie wouldn't stop, - this was not her mother, this was not anyone's mother, this thing had to be stopped - until she heard and felt a terrible snap.

The comb split in two, and Minnie felt something sharp fall down her throat, spitting out the two broken halves. Mother gagged, and then clawed at the air, cracks covering her entire body until she shattered – crumbling into dust that settled silently on the floor, leaving nothing behind. Minnie fell to the floor, her legs flesh again, but as she breathed, there was a chill in her chest.

“Minnie!” Ratface scrambled to her side, trying to help her up, his eyes checking her all over. “Pretty girl, are you all right?”

“I...” Minnie touched her chest, the chill refusing to leave. Her eyes felt strange – she looked at Ratface, and his worry increased tenfold.

“Your eyes... they're blue,” he said softly, touching her cheek with his feathers. “You... you must have swallowed the shard that was in the comb.”

 _One shard to freeze your mind._ That was what the Snow Queen had said. Minnie lifted her arm, but didn't see any blue veins on her skin, as when it had happened to Mickey. Was it because she had taken the shard a different way? “What... what will happen to me now?”

“I'm... not sure.” Ratface swallowed, backing up once. “My only guess is... it might consume you from the inside. We have to get to the Snow Queen, her power controls the shards. We have to get there as soon as possible, before we find out what else it does.”

Minnie certainly didn't want to stay, but as she climbed to her feet, she couldn't help but gaze at the trapped dolls. “What about them? I thought... if I broke the comb...”

“They were still affected by the shard...” Ratface shook his head sadly. “Like I said... she controls the shards. We might be able to free them, if we can make it to the Snow Queen.”

It hurt to look at all the lost girls, to know that she could do nothing more for them. Minnie wiped her face, and then turned around, trying to address “everyone” at once. “I'll... I'll do my best for you. I promise. I'm going to get Mickey back... and I'll get all of you back too.” If she was going to do one impossible thing, why not add another impossible thing to the list? Why couldn't they do both? “Please... just be patient a little while longer.” With one final bow to the dolls, Minnie picked up Ratface, and held him to her chest. “Are you hurt?”

Ratface lowered his head shamefully. “... No one's... ever come this far. I've... I've tried so many times to warn them, but they all... they give up, because the water won't flow, or the weather's too cold, or they end up like this... they all give up, one way or another.” What made Minnie so different? Or would there be an obstacle in her way that would make her give up too? Why did he keep trying?

Minnie held Ratface even closer, but the chill in her chest remained. She had a dreadful feeling it wouldn't leave for some time... then they had better get moving. “Let's see how far we get. Come along, Ratface.” There was still more she wanted to ask, to know, but she didn't want to push Ratface away by asking it too soon. If it was important, she'd find out. There was still quite a way to go.

She returned to the front of the house, picked up her satchel, and left. Ratface climbed onto her shoulder – strange, Minnie noted, how brutally Mother had hurt him, but within minutes he was perfectly all right - and they both cast one more look at the house before walking on.

Minnie thought of Mama and Papa, and how they had done what they thought was best to protect her. Yet there were things they couldn't protect her from. If they had known this, would Papa had shoved her out into the frost that night so long ago? She thought of Mama's hysterical crying when she woke up, and the years of silence that followed.

“Ratface?”

“Mmm? What now?”

“I'm sorry for not listening to you.”

“Hmph.” He didn't look at her. “I suppose... if I do say things, I could stand to say them clearer, next time.”

“I would like that very much.”

“I said if. Don't get your hopes up, pretty girl.”

Hope... Minnie walked on through the bright green grass. She knew of the word, hoping for good weather, hoping for good grades, hoping to see Mickey's smile.

But those kinds of hopes felt much, much smaller compared to the warmth in Minnie's heart - the warmth that, for now, kept the chill at bay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minnie and Ratface arrive at the Golden Kingdom, where everything glitters for a price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, huge thanks to my awesome editors Drucilla and Blueshifted.
> 
> This was my first time writing O'Hara, and am I not obligated to give him the most exaggerated accent possible?
> 
> Also, while it's frustrating that over the years Daisy's personality has been rewritten so many different times, it's also fantastic because I can make her a complete nutter without anyone batting an eyelash.

At times, Minnie would regret not grabbing at least a pair of shoes from Mother's house – or whatever her real name was – but the thought of going back to that prison kept her eyes forward. The chill in her chest stayed, and as Minnie and Ratface journeyed on, she could feel it grow stronger. Minnie didn't sleep often, wanting to cover as much ground as she could, but when she did, Ratface snuggled in close – not because he wanted to, he claimed. “If some big predator comes along, they'll surely eat you first. I'm just setting up an alarm system. Don't expect me to stay around at the first sign of trouble.”

But his barbs and criticisms came less and less as they left that mystical garden. Sometimes he'd ask about her home, and sometimes they traveled in silence. Minnie would often glance in his direction, wanting to ask one of many questions on her mind about what he knew, but when she met his eyes she lost the will. Perhaps he was waiting for her to ask... but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Whatever he knew about “Mother” and the Snow Queen couldn't be pleasant, and she felt she hadn't earned the right to open up old wounds. Maybe she never would.

It was early afternoon in their travels along endless green grass when they spotted something new off in the distance between two great hills. From far away, there was a glittering color that was very beautiful, and Minnie picked up the pace to see it closer. Between the hills were gigantic golden walls, and half a dozen plain-clothed soldiers standing guard. Unlike the frozen soldiers of the Snow Queen, these men and women were full of life, jabbering to one another, playfully shoving, one of them opting to take a nap standing up. The majority of them stood in front of a gigantic golden door, which contained a smaller door, which contained an even smaller door, on and on until there was a door about Minnie's height. Minnie couldn't tell if this was a way to confuse outsiders or a very odd choice in aesthetic.

“And here comes a problem,” Ratface said. “If we want to get to the Snow Queen, we must keep moving forward... but traversing those hills would take many days. The fastest way would be through the Golden Kingdom straight ahead. I've never been there myself, but I hear the princess is more off-kilter than a three-legged flamingo.”

Minnie couldn't make heads or tails of that insult so she ignored it. “I've never been to another place with lots of people in it before.” It was both exciting and nerve-wracking. “I hope it'll be all right.”

“Word of advice, pretty girl.” Ratface leaned in, still perched on her shoulder. “If they see you talking to me, they'll think you're crazy. Birds aren't supposed to talk the way I do, so you'll hear no more from me as long as we're in there.”

She fancied a chance. “You could tell me _why_ you talk, and I could tell them.” He merely looked away, apparently deciding now would be the start of his silence. “I'm beginning to think you're more stubborn than Mickey.” Which was really saying something! She walked on to the large doors, and it wasn't long before the guards could see her. She stopped in place. “Excuse me-”

“Who goes there!” One of the taller guardsmen shouted, leaping forward, his bayonet at the ready. He then paused, adjusted his hat, adjusted his collar, and then resumed pointing his weapon at her. “Does that look better?”

“I didn't think it looked too bad before,” Minnie said, blinking at the weapon, curious as to why she posed any threat.

“Oh, why thank you-”

“Oh, for gosh sakes, Horace!” One of the guards-women snapped, shoving Horace with one arm, her hair bouncing off her back as she moved. “You don't thank the enemy! That's how they'll get you!”

“Don't you tell me what to do, Clarabelle!” Horace stood up straight, his finger jabbing her chest. “If I'm gunna die today, then I'm gunna die as a gentleman, I tell you what!”

Minnie didn't have to see Ratface to know how hard he was rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry, I think there's been some sort of... misunderstanding? I'm not here to hurt anyone.”

“Oooh, I just bet!” Clarabelle whipped around so fast that her long hair smacked Horace in the face. “Let me tell you something, missy! I've been guardin' the Golden Kingdom from the Snow Queen's soldiers for years, and I ain't about to be fooled by no trick! Sure, you may not look like them, sound like them, or act like them, but that doesn't mean you ain't one of them!”

Horace paused, then scratched his head. “Uh, actually, Clarabelle... kinda sounds like that means she really _ain't_ one of them! All the years we been here, the Snow Queen's soldiers never changed their tactics.”

It suddenly struck Minnie what they were really saying, and her eyes widened in shock. “You... all of you actually fight the Snow Queen? You've been doing that all this time?”

“A'course we do!” Clarabelle said proudly, slapping a hand to her heart. “Been a proud family tradition for years! What right she got, thinkin' she can forbid love? None, I tell you, none! So we stand guard here and fight off her soldiers who try to take away our loved ones!”

“Ain't actually _stopped_ 'em from doin' so,” Horace admitted with a shaky wave of his hand. “But with every defeat we learn a new lesson, I say. We'll never give up on people we love.” Then, with an amused grin, he gently nudged Clarabelle's arm with his own. “Ain't that right, Clarabelle?”

Clarabelle blushed with a shy smile of her own, though her teasing nudge-back was hard enough to send Horace stumbling backwards. “Aw, Horace! This ain't somethin' you say in front of the...” However, she stopped herself from calling Minnie the enemy again, as even she could tell the enemy wouldn't look so... stunned.

For a brief moment, Minnie couldn't see or hear anyone. She stared into space with this new thought – people had been fighting the Snow Queen? It had never just been defiant Mickey? How many other lands took up arms to defend love? Was it just Minnie's homeland that merely...gave up? Did they ever even try otherwise? The idea of having options was so revolutionary that Minnie didn't know what to do with it.

Horace glanced at Clarabelle, who glanced back at him.  
“I'm thinkin' maybe we should ask the Chief what to do.”  
“I'm thinkin' you might be right about that.”

Cow and horse stepped back to the doors, and knocked on several of them in a musical pattern. In response, the smallest door opened, and a portly dog of a man began to push his way out. His clothes were equally plain as his men, as if he was no better or worse than them, save for a few shiny badges atop his shoulder. “Atten... HUT!” he called out, and every solider stopped what they were doing to turn and salute. “'Tis another glorious day in our kingdom, and I see all is well! So, pray tell, what needs me help?”

Horace saluted himself and wound up smacking his own face in the process. “Sir, Chief, sir! Sir, we spotted this possible intruder on our border, sir!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Clarabelle copied on the Chief's right side. “Sir, we sought your advice on how to handle this, sir!”

Ratface flicked Minnie's ear with his feather to bring her back to reality, and she shook her head hard, trying to remember everything. “Oh! I think they mean me, sir. Yes, sir?” She hesitated and then tried to copy their salute. “Sir, I would like to pass through your kingdom, if it's all right, sir.”

The Chief looked Minnie up and down without saying a word, his floppy cheeks swaying with him, the white in his hair showing shades of gray in the sunlight. When he was finished with his inspection, he placed one hand on Clarabelle's shoulder, and the other on Horace's. “You mean to tell me you thought this little girl was a danger to our entire kingdom?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” the duo chanted in unison.

The Chief sighed heavily, and then shoved the two together so that their foreheads smashed together. “Faith and begorrah, you daft fools! Lass doesn't even have on a pair of shoes! And you call yourselves guardians of our kingdom!”

“Sir, owwww, sir.”  
“Sir, sorry, sir.”

The Chief muttered a few choice phrases to himself before approaching Minnie, a hand to his heart as he bowed. “Most sincere apologies, bonnie lass. I'm afraid my men are a bit on edge, can't even trust their own eyes. I'm Chief O'Hara, and if it's safe passage you want through our home, then you may have it.”

Relief ran through Minnie like a soft summer light, and she delicately began to step forward, her hands staying together. “Thank you ever so much, sir. My name is Minnie, and this is my friend Ratface.” Ratface huffed.

“Ah, a girl and her pet, what a good sight,” O'Hara mused, before taking a small biscuit out from one of his pockets. “Polly want a cracker, eh?”

It had been so long since Minnie had anything even remotely close to a laugh that when she abruptly snorted, she held her nose, confused as to what she just felt. The ghosts of giggles kept shaking inside her mouth, and it was the only thing keeping Ratface from biting off O'Hara's finger. “Well, all right, more for me, then.” The Chief popped the biscuit into his mouth and headed back to the doors. “Come along then, I'll be your guide.”

Minnie forced down the odd sensation, but just as she and O'Hara were about to pass through, Horace nervously rose his hand. “Sir, also, sir? Sir, if, well... if Donald shows up again... do we really have to put him through another test, sir?

“Sir, really, sir?” Clarabelle added with a look of sheer disdain. “Sir, we all know what's gunna happen, sir.”

“Now, now,” O'Hara wagged a reproachful finger at his subordinates, “We are a fair and honest group. So long as we need men, he may apply as many times as he wishes...” And then, he lowered his hand, mumbling to himself, “And as many times as our eardrums can stand it.” Pretending as if he said nothing, he straightened his back, and pushed open the door.

The Golden Kingdom certainly lived up to its name – absolutely everything was that color! The streets, the houses, even some of the food and smaller animals were colored in the same bright yellow. Thankfully it appeared the townsfolk had their options of colors when it came to dress, which preventing the entire scenery from being completely blinding. It was as yellow as Minnie's town as white – but that wasn't the difference that stayed with her. No, it was the people's faces – they weren't haggard and run-down, lost in exhaustion and weariness. They weren't all brimming with joy, but they were varied! Different! Emoting!

“Is the whole world like this?” Minnie asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

O'Hara raised an eyebrow at such an odd remark. “Oh, I'd say no place is ever exactly like any other. Be a rather dull world if that was the case, I think.” His eyes couldn't help but fall to her feet. “Lass... you may need to be on your way, but are you sure I can't get you a pair of shoes first? My wife, bless her heart, has way more than any woman needs.”

The offer was tempting, but the last person who attempted to clothe her had nearly turned her into a doll, so she was a tad resistant. “That's very kind of you, sir, but I really can't stay. I must get through here as quickly as possible.”

O'Hara frowned, displeased that he couldn't help, but he pushed it no further. “Very well, very well. If that be the case, then let us make haste. I can have you to the edge of the kingdom quite quickly... so long as we don't run into _her_.”

“Her?” Minnie asked, and she exchanged a questioning look at Ratface.

“ _~OOOOOOH~CHEEEEEIIIIIF~OOOOOOOHAAAAARAAAAAAAA~!_ ”

O'Hara slapped a hand to his face and dragged it down slowly. “Speak of the devil.” In fact, it seemed everyone within a five mile radius was doing the exact same thing.

A carriage was riding up the yellow cobblestones, and naturally it too was almost garishly gold, with silver trimmings and lacy curtains on the side. The rider and his horse looked equally annoyed at the woman who continued to sing the Chief's name, along with interludes of “ _TRA LA LA LAAAA LA LA LAAAAA~!_ ” Instead of riding in the carriage like a normal person, the singing lady was hanging off the doorway, arm and leg outstretched, ignoring or oblivious to the safety hazard she posed to herself. Her tight blue dress flapped wildly as the carriage rode on, navy ribbons tying up her fancy gloves and her fancy hair – golden ringlets that bounced off her cheeks. If she tilted any further, her bejeweled tiara would fall right off. She only stopped singing to give orders. “There he is, stop here, stop here!”

The rider and horse obeyed, and the rider popped out an earplug that wasn't up to the job. The lady hopped off the carriage door and walked on her tippy toes, where Minnie could see she was wearing dancing shoes with the same ribbons. “I have been looking all over for you, dear Chief! Where have you been?”

“At my post, my lady,” O'Hara replied after a respectful bow, fighting off the urge to pinch his temples. “As is my job.”

“No matter!” the woman decided with a flippant wave of her hand. “You're here now, so you can help me now! Spread the word – tonight, we shall be having another party at the castle, and everyone is to attend!”

Minnie nearly jumped at the sound of wide-spread groans all around, including from O'Hara. “Another one?! We just had one last night! We've been having them for weeks and weeks on end!”

“But we simply must have a party, Chief!” The woman was aghast at the idea of anything opposite, taking a step back. “Why, it's a special occasion!”

“What now?” The Chief asked, hands on his hips, leaning in. “We've had birthday parties for nearly everyone in the kingdom, a party for the opening of the dress store, a party for the good weather, we even had a party for Miss Clara repairing her wicker basket! What in the name of the angels could we possibly have left to celebrate?!”

The woman drew herself in, eyes darting all about, and she tugged anxiously at her gloves. “I, uh... well... there's... there must be, something special, happening somewhere...?”

“We can't afford to keep having these parties, my lady!” O'Hara insisted, though he at least tried to tone down his anger. “Please, think rationally! The money is going down the drain, and we can't afford to have our guards off duty when the Snow Queen could strike down at any time! You must think of your people... there is just nothing left to celebrate.”

The fancy-dressed woman continued to fidget, still trying to find an answer against all that logic. She bounced on her toes, beginning and ending sentences with “eh” “ah” “hm”, until she finally noticed Minnie – who felt like a mere audience member at the world's strangest play. “Oh? Who is this lovely girl?”

Minnie looked behind her until she realized that somehow she was the lovely girl. Chief O'Hara cleared his throat. “My lady... this one calls herself Minnie, along with her companion, Ratface. This here be our Golden Princess, Princess Daisy.”

While the last “royal” figure Minnie had met didn't seem one for etiquette, Minnie wanted to be fair to the person whose land she was traveling through, and so curtsied. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your royal highness.”

Daisy stared at Minnie, and she pulled out a thin blue fan from her sleeve, using it to point at Minnie's feet before fanning herself. “O'Hara. The girl doesn't have any shoes.”

Not wanting him to get in trouble, Minnie was quick to speak. “Oh, he offered, but I declined, your highness. You see, I really need to get through the kingdom as quickly as possible.”

Daisy propped the fan under her beak, an idea beginning to brew. “I haven't seen you around here before, and I pride myself on knowing everyone. You must be a newcomer... and we haven't had a traveler here in ages.” Her mouth split into a grin.

O'Hara jerked, hands outstretched. “My lady, don't you dare-”

“We MUST celebrate!” Daisy cheered, spinning in place. “Oh, yes, yes, yes! We will celebrate this dear girl's first day in the Golden Kingdom! It's a momentous occasion!”

Minnie looked around as if to make sure she was actually hearing this. While Ratface's taunts often seemed needlessly cruel, perhaps he had been a little too on the mark in this case. Ratface was in equal disbelief. “That's – that's really not necessary, there's nothing about me that's worth a party-”

“Nonsense, nonsense!” Daisy was suddenly invading Minnie's personal space, grabbing her hands and swaying them about. Ratface jumped off Minnie's shoulder and flew to the carriage to watch this strangeness unfold. “You are absolutely worth celebrating! We will have a grand and glorious time! This will be the day of Minnie!” She then pulled Minnie into a warm embrace, and waved off O'Hara. “Now, go, go, spread the word, all are invited!”

O'Hara inhaled as deeply as his lungs would allow before letting out the longest sight imaginable. “Yes, my lady...” Grumbles and moans echoed back and forth across the townsfolk.

“First things first,” Daisy then decided, giving Minnie a spin. “We must get you some shoes! I won't have you walk another step, you poor darling!” She then pointed her fan at the rider, who was tossing away his ear plugs. “Return to the castle and let everyone know about the party! Promptly at eight, of course, and everyone dressed to the nines! This is her first party here, and we must make it extra memorable!”

It was becoming clear to Minnie that she was having no say in this, so she may as well go along for the ride. However, Daisy did manage to bring up one thing of important note. “I've never been to a party before, anywhere.” She'd read about those wondrous things in books, but the books also said they were meant to make everyone happy – only Daisy seemed to like them.

“ _Never?_ ” Daisy gasped, drawing Minnie even closer to her. “Never, ever, ever? Oh, then we must make this party ten times as special for you! But, again, first, shoes! To the cobbler!”

“How do I get there if I can't walk-” Today Minnie made another new noise in her mouth that she didn't recognize, a wiggled “ _Oooh?!_ ” as Daisy triumphantly lifted Minnie into her arms and carried her as if she weighed no more than a sack of flour. Her eyes boggled, trying to find muscle in Daisy's dainty arms.

“No need to fret, darling dearest Minnie,” Daisy said as she began to walk, ever still tippy-toed. “All in the Golden Kingdom are required to train every day, lest the Snow Queen's soldiers come about to strike up a fight. Let us fetch you the cutest shoes you've ever seen, socks to match, and goodness gracious, I want to see you in something with silk!”

Minnie tilted her head back to see Ratface, who casually flew alongside them. Though they exchanged no verbal words, the look between their eyes was mutually understood.

_It's killing you not to make fun of her, isn't it?  
Shut up. Here I thought only your boy would carry you as a bride._

With Minnie unable to fight or make Daisy listen, she was whisked away to the cobbler, who was exasperated y the news of another party. Minnie was seated on a plush – yellow, of course – chair as the kindly old man measured her feet, then laid a brand new pair of fresh white socks on her lap.

Daisy flapped the fan on her face, analyzing Minnie all over again. “Colors, colors, colors... it must be so difficult for you to dress, you look like you'd match anything! Tell me, what would you like your shoes to be? Yellow is traditional, but, daresay, you could pull off purple.”

Minnie blinked at her, and then blinked at her several more times. She'd never been given an option about clothes before, so used to her family's hand-me-downs that she assumed she'd wear them even when old and gray. She first tried to dodge the question. “I don't have any way to repay you for this. I'm afraid all I have with me is some grass and vegetables.” And a valuable piece of jewelry, but Minnie wasn't going to part with that for anything.

“Repay me? Perish the thought. You're my honored guest.” Daisy lightly poked Minnie's nose with her fan. “The only thing I want from you is to have a good time at the party. Dance, and sing, and eat, and be merry! Make new friends! Find a special boy and take him into your arms!” She drew back her hand, eyes beginning to go distant. “Let him draw you away from the music so he can whisper sweet nothings into your ear... then go out into the balcony to see the stars and make a wish together...” Minnie began to doubt Daisy was really speaking _to_ her anymore. “One more dance all by yourselves...”

“A- _hem_.” The cobbler cleared his throat. “The shoes, my lady?”

Daisy's eyes cleared up, rushing back to the present in full swing. “Eh? Ah? OH! Shoes. Shoes, yes!” She swiftly turned around and began to march up and down the aisles. “I should get a new pair myself while I'm here!”

As Daisy frittered away her choices, the cobbler shook his head, rubbing his aching back. “Sorry for all the trouble she's putting you in, miss,” he said, keeping his voice low. “She's not a bad girl... She just doesn't have her priorities in order anymore.”

Minnie lowered her head so she could return the whisper. “You mean she didn't use to be like this?”

“Mostly kept to the castle, she did, rarely came out to see us. Not that she was cold or mean... the King and Queen kept her inside at all times, 'fraid that the Snow Queen would someday snatch her away.” A pitiful sigh. “Irony, I tell you what. Two years ago, they were the ones taken away. Took a great toll on us all. But the princess did her best in their place, so she started leaving the castle to understand how things were run. Did a mighty fine job, if'fn you asked me.”

“So what changed?”

The old man shrugged. “Don't rightly know. I want to say it was about a month ago she began these parties... the first time was all right. It was to thank this brave young man for stopping a rotten family of muggers out to get her. Helped kick them right out of the kingdom. We all enjoyed that little shindig... it was a nice reminder of the happy things the Snow Queen can't take away from us. Then... she threw another one the next day. Then the next day. Over and over again, and she won't stop! We'll be bankrupt and sitting targets if this keeps up!”

Minnie chewed on her lower lip as she listened to the tale, eyes continuously going back to Daisy who sang a joyous melody as she chose a pair of silver heels for herself. No, she wasn't a bad person, Minnie decided, even if her experience with bad people was limited. Unlike Mother's backhanded praises, Daisy seemed to genuinely mean everything she said, even if she didn't think about it clearly. Minnie looked down at her lap, then put her head up. “She made me the guest of honor... maybe she'll listen to me. I could try to talk to her.” It might not be a success, but the idea of leaving these people without trying to help made her ill.

The cobbler's expression softened, and then he chuckled. “My thanks, good lady. Who knows? Maybe you'll have the angel's miracles on your side.”

There was that word again – angel. She'd been hearing a few times since she arrived in the Golden Kingdom, but was unfamiliar with the term. Maybe Ratface would know, if she could get a moment alone with him. Right now he was waiting outside, sitting on the roof, looking out for who knew what. Daisy bounced back to the two, twirling around in her new duds. “Oooh, these are the best ones yet! I'll pay you double – triple for these! No arguments, it shall be done.” The cobbler huffed, slightly bemused, as Daisy went on. “And what of you, Minnie? You never did answer me.”

If Minnie was going to get Daisy to listen, it seemed she would have no choice but to see this party through until the end. She fidgeted, hands on her lap. An actual choice about what to wear? Her heart was beating hard, nerves tingling. She didn't know excitement when it coursed through her blood. “Could... I mean... if it's no trouble... is red all right?”

Daisy gasped, hands clasped together. “Red... RED! Oh, of course, red! You were meant for red, you were born for red! No, what am I saying? Red was born for you! Red didn't exist until you came along! We must get you the reddest red to ever red!” She then turned on her heel and lightly began pushing the cobbler along. “Come, come! We will get the reddest, prettiest shoes for her adorable little feet! We haven't a moment to spare!”

Minnie was mostly grateful just to have shoes on again, no matter what the color, yet she couldn't deny a tinge of happiness that she was allowed to choose how it looked. Yet she only had them on for a handful of seconds before Daisy snatched her arm and dragged her away, because now she needed stockings! Now she needed gloves! Now she needed ribbons for her hair, not to mention six – no, seven – no, _twelve_ dresses! She should have options and back-up options after all!

They only stopped shopping when Daisy was feeling peckish, and headed down to the bustling marketplace for a bite to eat. Minnie held onto Daisy's hand, afraid they'd be separated, and Daisy was more than happy to tug her along. All the lavish clothes had been sent to the castle for a “final prep-up” as Daisy called it, although Minnie kept the shoes on. Daisy hummed as she looked through the wares, unable to decide what to nibble on, and Minnie saw an opportunity since Daisy was, for once, not throwing money everywhere.

“May I ask you something, your highness?”

“Only if you call me by name,” Daisy said without turning back, balancing a fresh apple on her fan.

“All right... Daisy... Why do you keep throwing parties?”

The princess laughed, dropping a coin into the farmer's hand as she walked with her fruit. “Why? Because everyone loves parties! And happy people make for a happy kingdom.” Which meant she must have been ignoring the grimaces of the people around her who were grumbling about wanting to go to bed at a decent hour and finishing their late-night jobs. “Once you attend your first one, you'll know. Everyone's going to adore you, I can feel it.”

On sheer instinct, Minnie's lifelong ability to be blunt came out. “I don't think so. You're only being nice to me because I'm a reason to have a party, aren't you?”

At this point Daisy had bitten into the apple, but the words stabbed her so deeply that it fell off the fan and rolled along the ground until a peppy stray pup ran away with it. Even then, Daisy's jaw hung, bits of apple on her beak. When she found words, her typically sing-song voice was wrought with despair. “That's... that's not, true, I... I do like you, I...”

“But you don't know me,” Minnie said, although she began to feel guilty as she saw the agony in Daisy's eyes. It wasn't just about this truth – there was another truth behind them, and although Minnie couldn't fathom what it was, she could tell she was getting close. “How can you like me when you don't know anything about me? If I wasn't here, would you still have a party tonight?”

Some of the closer merchants, overhearing this incredibly awkward talk, began to shuffle away. Daisy's hands came together, wringing the fan, threatening to break it. She began to sniffle quietly, fighting back an urge to cry. “I... P-Please, I need to have this party...” Desperate, she grabbed Minnie's hands, pulling her close. “Please! Please... I'll give you anything you want, just... please let me have this party, I need...”

Of course, Minnie was going to ask again, why? But that's when she heard several loud sounds in succession.  
First, a CRASH!  
Then, a BANG!  
Lastly, a YELL!

“WHY YOU DOGGONE STUBBORN LITTLE – I'LL RIP OFF YOUR FEATHERS AND STUFF 'EM INTO A PILLOW!”

That's when Ratface made an appearance, landing on Minnie's shoulder, gorging himself on a fat fish tail. A hand-drawn wagon raced down the pathway, one of the wheels broken, and a siding cracked in two, letting the rest of the fish fall onto the ground. The owner of the wagon, a young man with a bright yellow vest that made his dirty white feathers stick out all the more, was ranting at the top of his lungs about a tiny thief, oh how'd he catch him and cook him and use his bones as lawn ornaments. The man then tripped over a loose cobblestone, fell onto his face, the wagon ran him over, the wagon crashed into a wall, and the remains of the fish splattered onto the man.

Not a single member of the townsfolk appeared remotely surprised by these events. Instead, a few waved and passed with a communal, “Good afternoon, Donald.”

Minnie turned her head to glare at Ratface. “That wasn't nice.” Ratface made no comment.

Daisy, meanwhile, had perked up instantly, any tears in her eyes vanishing. “Donald! Oh, silly me, _Sir_ Donald~! What a most pleasant afternoon it is, to see you out and about, hard at work!”

Donald managed to sit up, now covered in scales and slime. “Thanks, your highness... I think...” He pushed a fish off his beak, and then his anger was reignited when he saw Ratface upon Minnie's shoulder. “You! You lousy... nobody steals my cargo! I ought to pop you a new one!” He stood up in an attempt to do so, but began slipping on fish.

“Ah ah ah, careful there, dear Sir Donald,” Daisy cooed, catching Donald's hands and helping him to his feet. “I'll pay for the damages, don't you fret.”

“I really am sorry about what he's done.” Minnie frowned at Ratface, who didn't seem at all apologetic as he continued to eat. “My friend Ratface, he's really...” Ah, but she wasn't supposed to reveal he wasn't an average bird, wasn't she? “He's really...” She looked at Ratface, and one of those strange few feelings coursed inside her. “... He's really not a very bright bird.”

Ratface spat out the fish in shock, staring at Minnie, who calmly returned the look. “No, I'd say he's not a very smart bird at all. I mean, if he could talk, I'm sure he'd have some way of explaining himself. But he's not smart enough for that. It's a good thing he's pretty, though, isn't he?” She lightly stroked his beak with her finger.

Ratface's mouth hung open, torn between humiliation and – as reluctant as he would be to admit it – some respect.

Donald crossed his arms, but as he tapped his fingers, he began to cool down. “Well... he is a really dumb-looking bird. I guess if he's too stupid to know any better...” Minnie quickly went to clamp Ratface's beak with her hand, helping him resist the urge to claw Donald's face off. With that settled, he faced the princess. “And it's nice of you to offer, your highness-”

“Daaaisyyyy~” she corrected in song.

“... I can't let you keep paying for all my mistakes,” Donald finished. “My temper's my own problem. Maybe if I kept my cool...” He then airily gestured to the fish disaster around them.

“Oh, no.” Daisy clicked her tongue, drawing back a bit. “Don't tell me the guardsmen didn't let you pass the test again?”

Donald cleared his throat, tugging at his collar. “Um... on the plus side, this time I didn't insult anyone's mother.”

“It's not fair!” Daisy protested. “You would make an excellent guardsman! I'll tell Chief O'Hara to hire you right-”

“No, no, no!” Donald held out his hands, flailing slightly. “Daisy, don't! I want to get there on my own merits! You have your place,” he gestured far off, to the castle if Minnie had to guess, “And I have mine.” He opened his hands downward. “And that's where we have to stay. I don't want anyone thinking I got the job because I'm friends with royalty. You got that?”

“Right... right... of course...” Daisy's enthusiasm was falling, until she spotted Minnie out of the corner of her eye. “Where are my manners? Donald, this is Minnie, my new best friend!” she announced as she yanked Minnie in front of Donald.

“She is?” Donald asked.

“I am?” Minnie also asked.

“Minnie, Donald, Donald, Minnie.” Daisy wildly waved back and forth between them. “She's a new arrival to the Golden Kingdom, and she's never been to a party before! So, being the wonderful person that I am, I'm throwing a party in her honor!”

Donald's shoulders sank. “Another party? I barely recovered from last night's! My feet still ache from all those dances! And the guardsmen need to stay at the doors to protect us, not chomp down on a buffet! Do we really need another one?”

“Yes,” Daisy replied automatically. “Yes we do. Why, it would be rude not to! For Minnie's sake! Look at that cute face and tell her you don't want a party! You can't, can you? She's too adorable.”

Donald sucked the inside of his cheek, he and Minnie exchanging sympathetic gestures. “... Never? Not even for your birthday?” he finally asked.

Minnie tilted her head. “What's a birthday?”

Daisy's plan was temporarily forgotten due to sheer shock. “Oh my _gosh_. I am buying you twenty more dresses.” Then she remembered, shook her head, and focused her attention back on Donald. “You will come... won't you?”

Donald slumped forward – another fish fell out of his vest. “Okay... fine. Just for her. One more party, and that's it.”

“Oooh, goody goody!” Daisy clapped wildly, even doing another spin. “Of course you will, I never doubted you would, Sir Donald!”

“Yeah-huh.” Donald finally went back to his job, picking up the fish one by one. “Guess I better finish this quickly if I want to make it...”

“Let me help, help me help!”

As Daisy flounced from fish to fish, Ratface nudged Minnie's cheek. Since he was still on his self-imposed limit, he used both wings to point at Donald, then Daisy, then pressed his wings together. Minnie didn't get it. He did it again. She still stared without a clue. Ratface threw his wings up in frustration before kicking the satchel on Minnie's back, the jewelry inside jostling.

Minnie's eyes widened. “... Oooh. So you're saying...?” He nodded. “She feels...?” Nod. “So the reason is...?” Nod.

“I'm... going to have a difficult time leaving this place, aren't I?”

Big, big, big nod.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the night of her first party, Minnie uncovers the reasons behind the celebration, but an unwelcome guest will make for a horrifying reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> C'mon, guys you didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?
> 
> Includes a loving shout-out to one of my favorite Disney flicks. Also, I'll admit this story is getting harder for me to write because it's so dang depressing. I gotta make the next one a thousand percent funnier to make up for it.

With the party now known all across the kingdom, Minnie was whisked away to Daisy's castle for “final preparations”. She was given a warm bath, which was so heavenly Minnie nearly fell asleep in the water, then brushed and dressed with the finest of care at Daisy's fingertips. At all times Minnie kept an eye on the rose and satchel she had with her, making sure they never left her sight. Ratface stayed outside, walking along the windows and making sure no tricks or traps were lying in wait for them.

Minnie remained quiet, allowing Daisy to do the majority of the talking up until they were nearly finished and the party was about to begin. The girls were in Daisy's gigantic bedroom, which was nearly the size of Minnie's house, and Daisy was carefully tying up the last details on Minnie's outfit. The red dress they'd chosen, after a long time deliberating, was nothing short of gorgeous. The puffy sleeves and frills at her feet made Minnie feel like another person entirely. She wondered what Mickey would think of it.

Daisy was brushing Minnie's hair again, making sure the rose would fit perfectly alongside her ear – clearly this flower was important to Minnie. “Don't you look like the belle of the ball, Minnie! I swear, all eyes will be on you. You shan't get a moment's peace.”

Minnie could see herself in a long vanity mirror, and she wanted to enjoy the sight. After all, mirrors and other reflective surfaces had been forbidden in her home. Here she was, with pretty things for a not-so-pretty girl. It was like a dream come true. She wanted to take in the splendor of the fabric, the touches of make-up adorning her face, the shoes that glittered underneath the candles. She felt pretty for the first time in her life, and wished nothing more than to merely bask in it.

But her blue eyes wouldn't allow it. They were a reminder of what was waiting for her beyond the kingdom, and who needed her help. The chill in her chest was growing stronger. “Daisy? May I ask you something?”

“You may ask me anything you please, my darling,” Daisy replied as she adjusted the large bow on Minnie's back before resuming brushing. “Consider me an open book. What chapter interests you most?”

Ratface, in a moment of brief privacy between them, had told Minnie earlier than such questions should be handled with grace and finesse. Minnie didn't know what those things were, so, as usual, she went blunt. “Are you in love with Donald?”

 _Snap._ Minnie glanced over her shoulder and saw that Daisy had broken the hand-brush in two, her eyes wide as saucers. “How... how did you know?!”

For once Minnie was relieved Ratface wasn't around for this, for she was certain he'd be laughing his fool head off. “Is he why you keep throwing these parties?”

Daisy continued to gawk in a stupid stupor before throwing the broken pieces of the brush on the floor. “Must you be as clever as you are lovely, dear girl?” She walked around Minnie in a circle, hands clenching and unclenching as she tried to choose her words. “Oh, you'd never understand, no one would! I know everyone thinks I'm not bright, I hear the words they whisper... but this is all I can do! He is all I have! I can't stop these parties, I mustn't!”

Minnie was getting dizzy as her eyes tried to follow Daisy while her body stayed still. “Maybe I won't understand,” she admitted. “But I would still like to hear about it, if it's all right with you. You've been very kind to me, even if you're just using me as a pawn.”

“I am noooot!” Daisy whined, stopping her circle in front of Minnie, fists knocking together. “I mean, I am, in a way, but, really, I'm not! Don't call yourself that!” She wavered back and forth between guilt and her own selfish desires before giving in. “Listen, listen my dear one... Some time ago, I was out in the kingdom all by myself... I'm the one who has to run things here, but I wasn't prepared for it! I barely knew what I was doing. I was so worried about everyone and everything that I could hardly sleep or eat... so I thought maybe, if I went among the people, I could know what to do.”

This story seemed familiar, and it didn't take long for Minnie to put the pieces together. “Then you were attacked by robbers?”

Daisy nodded. “Terrible bandits, the whole lot of them. They've been going from land to land, stealing whatever they please, and they saw me as the perfect target. I was cornered in the darkest alleyway, and I didn't know what to do, where to turn for help. I was so scared... I truly thought they might end my life, if they could!” She faced herself in the mirror as her story continued, recalling the muffled screams she'd made as one of the men shoved his hand over her mouth. “We've all been trained to fight off the Snow Queen's minions... but this was something else entirely. My mind just shut down.”

Minnie's satchel was resting neatly in her arms, and she hugged it close, unable to imagine such a fate. Stealing in her homeland was unheard of, because you wouldn't get much. There had been the occasional desperate thief, but they were seen as the lowest of the low, a pitiful sight one could barely stand. “That's when... Donald saved you?”

Daisy's face softened, her fingers touching the mirror. “Yes... he wrestled them away, and made so much noise that it brought more than half the kingdom together to fight them off. I don't think anyone would have known what was happening if it wasn't for his temper. Once those ruffians had been scared off, he helped me to my feet... and he... he had no idea who I was.”

The soft, near whisper quality of those words stirred something in Minnie, though she couldn't understand it. “Why was that so important?”

“Because... he didn't rescue me because I'm a princess.” She began to smile, a genuine small smile without a song or theatrics. It was a far better look, Minnie thought. “He saved me because I needed saving, and that was all. His heart goes out to all in need...he tries so hard to help everyone he can. He's kind, and generous, and brave...when I threw that first party to thank him, he said I'd given everyone great happiness...that they spent so much time preparing for the worst and being afraid that they forgot about the joys in life. That night...we were all happy, we were all the same. Not royals and commoners, but people loving life, and being loved.”

The joys in life – Minnie looked down at the satchel in her hands. What joys did she have at home? Talking with Mickey, being with him? Had there ever been anything more than that? Smiles were so rare, and they would continue to vanish so long as their food supply dwindled. Even if she took Mickey back home, that was no guarantee things would be fixed. What would they do about the endless winter and the dying fields? If they held a party, could they forget about those agonizing days – or merely be reminded of what was to come?

Minnie felt small as those questions weighed on her mind. “Is that why you keep throwing parties? So you could... try to get those feelings to stay?” As wrong as it was, with the money wasted and the soldiers needing to stay on guard, Minnie could sympathize. Wouldn't anyone want their fellow man to be happy, over and over and over again? 

Daisy's smile vanished instantly, and her fingers drew in. “I wish I could be that selfless,” she said quietly, looking at herself in the mirror, yet not really seeing herself. “But...so long as the Snow Queen watches us, my love for him puts us both in danger. I can't express it...I can't tell him...or else the soldiers will take us away. And no matter how hard we fight, we keep losing people. If I lost him too...I wouldn't know what to do. I know how horrible it makes me sound...a good girl like you couldn't understand.”

Wouldn't that have been the perfect time to say “of course I do?” and Minnie planned to do so, planned to tell Daisy everything, but Daisy herself prevented it, suddenly straightening up and slapping her own cheeks. “That's enough of that! We have a party to attend, and we mustn't have sad faces for it! No, we shall think only happy thoughts.” With restored confidence, she snatched Minnie's hand and began to drag her off. “Your first party awaits! May the night be long and merry!”

Minnie chided herself at the missed opportunity, but decided there'd always be another. She wasn't as good a girl as Daisy thought – she did want to know what a party was like. Her fingers intertwined with Daisy's, trying to remember all the pictures and words Mickey's books had used to describe parties. Yet for all her memories, it didn't prepare her for the actual sight.

At the end of the long hallway was the grand ballroom, where the golden wonders never ceased. Beautiful men and women were dressed in their fanciest garments, the smell of warm food wafted through the air, and dazzling lights made the stain-glass windows sparkle like newly lit stars. Daisy was saying announcing Minnie's presence to all who could hear, but Minnie wasn't among them – she was too entranced by the sights, smells, and sounds. The sounds! She stepped forward slowly, losing Daisy's hand as she followed the odd sounds that were soft and deep, pleasant and inviting. The crowds parted for her, bemused by her trance.

There, in the middle of it all, were men and women touching foreign objects that made these sounds, and it struck Minnie at once what they were – the hidden things in the attic! The giant with the black and white lines stood out the most, not coated in dust but polished with care. Each line could be pressed and create a different sound, and they were all perfect. She had never heard anything so graceful in all her life, and wanted to keep hearing it always. This... this was _music_. 

Daisy caught up to Minnie, delighted that her new friend was enjoying herself. “Fan of the piano, are you?” she asked cheerfully. “Do you have a favorite song? Tell me, I'll have them play it all night!”

Minnie strained for words. “I... I've never heard... Can you really listen to this, whenever you want?”

“Of course,” Daisy replied, but the look of surprise on Minnie's face melted her. What kind of captive life did this dear have? She could spot Donald coming over, no doubt wanting to say his peace before high-tailing it out of there, and fidgeted. She did want another dance with Donald – a nice, slow, lingering one – but seeing Minnie in such awe was touching her heart.

“Here I am,” Donald said as he approached, and indeed, he was looking for a way out, much the same as all the other exhausted party-goers. “So, if you don't need me, I'll just-”

“I don't need you,” Daisy interrupted with a lie, “But Minnie does. Have the honor of her first dance at her first party! You're a gentleman, show her your gentlemanly ways.”

Minnie and Donald were equally thrown off, giving each other a puzzled expression. Minnie was the first to reject it. “But I don't know how to dance. I'm certain Donald wouldn't enjoy himself with me.”

“Nonsense, you're a delight.” Daisy yanked Donald's wrist, then Minnie's, and practically pushed them together. “Just one dance, and then you're all mine, Sir Donald. So make it a good one!”

Donald exhaled deeply, exasperated, but for Minnie's sake he gently took her hands and led her a few steps away. “It's not as hard as it looks. Here, just watch my feet.” He placed a hand on her hip, keeping their bodies apart just enough so Minnie could look down and do as instructed, the satchel hanging off her arm. He took his time with her, not minding when she stepped on his webbed feet – well, he did mind, but he was clearly biting back the urge to snap at her, which she thought was nice – and as it went on Minnie understood it was in time with the music. Dancing and music really were supposed to go together, just like the books said.

“See?” Donald said with a hint of a smile. “It can be fun, when you're with the right person...” Then, under his breath, “And you haven't been doing this several weeks in a row...”

Minnie kept her eyes down at their feet. “But that first party... it made you really happy, didn't it?”

She heard him give a huff. “Well... yeah. It did. We all liked it. And if she just kept these things down to a reasonable amount, we'd keep liking it. Stuff like this makes you feel like we're all the same, like we're kind of one big family. You don't have to worry about anything, and you can just... enjoy things...” He was finding it more difficult to explain – because he was seeing tears in Minnie's eyes. “Hey! Hey, hey, what is it?” He stopped where he was, getting down on one knee and holding her shoulders. “Shhh, it's okay, what's wrong? What's the matter?”

“I'm...” Minnie hiccuped, her face quickly getting wet, her body trembling as she hunched over. “I _am_ enjoying this.”

“Then...” Donald glanced over to Daisy, hoping she'd have some idea what was happening. The princess gawked, horrified that her party was causing someone to react this way. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because... because _everyone_ should enjoy these things!” Her hands flew to her face, and she sobbed as she thought of her town, of all the wondrous things that had been denied to them due to fear. Had there been a time when Mama enjoyed playing the piano, or someone in their family tree had brought it out to parties like this? Only now did Minnie feel how unfair the rules had been, how terrible the Snow Queen's reign truly was. “Everyone should know what it's like to feel pretty... to dance... to hear music! Everyone should feel like they can be happy!” How many other towns had sacrificed this in order to stay alive?

And Mickey, Mickey, Mickey – he didn't even know the full beauty of music, and dance, and games, and yet he tried so hard to bring it back. He wanted to bring this joy to the town who shunned him, because he knew it was _right_. She missed him with all her heart, and she kept crying as she thought of him, and of all the things that had been denied to her people. It couldn't go on like this.

Donald was incredibly confused by this turn of events, but all thoughts of abandoning the party left him. Instead, he stood back up, and carefully put his arms around the young girl, letting her cry into his chest. “All right, let's get it all out...” He murmured tenderly as he stroked the back of her head, “It's okay.” It only made Minnie cry all the more. The world was full of kind people, and they deserved kindness in turn.

Daisy finally made her way over, pulling a frilly handkerchief out of her sleeve and leaned in to dab at Minnie's cheeks. “Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I never meant for this to happen...”

It was hard to hear her cries and the comfort over the music - but an especially loud voice broke through it all, mostly because everyone was startled to see where it came from. “RUN, RUN, RUN YOU FOOLS!” Ratface had flown in from a window and now circled the ceiling, shouting as loud as his little lungs would allow to those below. “HER SOLDIERS ARE HERE! RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN!”

His warning came too late, as the windows were smashed one by one, and Minnie recognized the colors and insignia of the expressionless warriors pouring into the ballroom – the Snow Queen's soldiers! The party-goers screamed in terror, running as fast as they could, leaving behind dropped food and tossed instruments. Donald thrust Minnie into Daisy's arms - “Get to safety!” as the soldiers wordlessly began targeting individuals, using long icicle-shaped spears to knock them down and drag them away. Soldiers who were supposed to guard the gates leapt into action, using utensils and broken chairs as weaponry in a struggle to fend off the invaders. The soldiers were only after certain targets – anyone else was dealt with as an obstacle to be removed as swiftly as possible.

Donald threw himself into the fray, armed only with his fists, his temper unleashed at full fury. “GET AWAY FROM THEM, YOU COLD-HEARTED CREEPS!”

Daisy screamed out Donald's name, but she knew trying to call him back would be useless. She breathed rapidly, and then clasped Minnie's hand. “Th-this way, Minnie, hurry!” She raced back to the hallway, but she could see soldiers pouring in there as well. The only other option was the doors leading to the outside, and so she raced with Minnie stumbling along, the girls holding onto each other for dear life. All around them they could hear screams, of loved ones being dragged away, but nothing could be done to stop it.

The night air was brisk, the light from within the castle illuminating several of the streets nearby. Daisy wasn't certain where to run, only that she must run, and that she must keep Minnie safe. Minnie merely followed, until - 

Until she saw Mickey.

She tripped over her own feet, falling to her knees and taking Daisy down with her with a yelp. Minnie was quick to look up, ignoring Daisy asking if she was hurt, unsure if she'd seen what she'd really seen... but she had. Mickey was there, underneath the light of the castle windows...

… As one of the Snow Queen's soldiers. His black fur was now a rich blue, his eyes soulless and his clothes replaced with armor. Though his usual merriment was dead and his colors were replaced, there was no denying this was Mickey – Mickey, who was dragging Clarabelle by her arm as she lay injured in the street, ignoring her screams, begging for mercy. Minnie said his name once in a breathless daze, and then said it again as she rose to her knees, louder, louder, “Mickey... Mickey! MICKEY! MICKEY!” But he didn't hear her.

Daisy grabbed Minnie by the shoulder, trying to pull her away. “What are you doing?! We're sitting targets!”

Mickey continued to drag Clarabelle along, and was only stopped when Horace suddenly came from behind, his arms around Mickey's neck in an useless effort for a choke hold. “Let go of my woman, you varmint!” He even tried to bite Mickey's ear, which proved futile when he chipped a tooth. Mickey didn't respond, didn't flinch, and merely raised his spear to stab Horace deeply in the arm. Horace howled in agony, falling to the ground as he bled, and in that moment Clarabelle desperately tried to crawl away when Mickey's hand was slightly loosened.

This horrific thing had taken Mickey's place – but, surely, Mickey was still in there! A warm heart like that wouldn't go down without a fight! He must still be alive, there still had to be a way to bring him home! And didn't Minnie have something to guide him? She threw Daisy off and reached into her satchel, pulling out the jewelry that had spelled their fate, and ran towards Mickey, Daisy's shrieking for her in the distance. “Mickey! Mickey, look!”

The chill in her chest then shuddered, expanding, reaching into her lungs and making it difficult to breathe. Minnie was so overcome with cold that she fell over in her new shoes, and the necklace went flying out of her hand, landing between Mickey and Clarabelle. Mickey's dark eyes went down to it.

Minnie tried to sit up on her arms, fresh tears in her eyes. Yes, of course he saw it, everything would be okay now! “Mickey, I have an answer to your question!” She called to him, reaching out for him, knowing what he wanted to hear, what he needed to hear. “Mickey, I'm ready! Mickey! Mickey!”

Mickey walked forward...

… and stomped down on the necklace in his path, so he could continue towards Clarabelle, the red jewel shattering into a thousand pieces.

The world went dead.

Minnie stared at the destroyed bauble, at the destroyed hopes and dreams of all it contained. It hadn't been enough. She hadn't been enough. Mickey was gone.

Mickey was gone.  
Mickey was gone.  
 _If you break the rules, the Snow Queen will take you away and no one will ever see you again._

Minnie was a little girl again, out in the cold, begging for Papa to let her in, the cold devouring her, and the chill in her chest spread throughout, in her belly, in her mouth, and this time there would be no saving her. Her vision went dark, only seeing the broken jewel, the blood in her body freezing up, and she hurt, everything hurt, and she was alone, all alone, Mickey was gone, the world would die, there would never be dancing and music and everyone would suffer THIS WASN'T FAIR PAPA HELP ME SOMEONE HELP ME - 

“ _Wake up!_ ”

Who knew that the wings of a raven could slap as hard as a normal person's hand? Minnie's entire body heaved and jerked – she gasped for air, and it came out as a fog. While she had been trapped for what felt like eternity, it had been about fifteen minutes, the soldiers having left with their targets. Apparently Daisy had gotten to her and was carrying her in her arms, but it was Ratface who had come and smacked Minnie back to life. He sat on Daisy's shoulder, ready to slap again if need be, as he saw Minnie's vision clearing. “How dare you throw away your life like that!” he snapped at her, baring one of his taloned feet at her. “You stupid girl, how dare you take me on this journey just to die on me! I won't forgive you, not in a million years! You don't have my permission to die!”

Minnie breathed steadily, trying to comprehend what had happened, but what she saw first was Daisy's horrified eyes, too overcome with what happened to Minnie to really care that the bird on her shoulder could talk. “Minnie, darling! You... what's happening to you?”

How was Minnie supposed to answer if she didn't know? She raised her hand, trying to get up, and that's when she saw what was scaring Daisy – the veins in her palms, all the way up to her shoulders, were now bright icy blue. They had the same chill that was in her chest – the ice shard was spreading. It had stopped growing for now, but who knew how long that would be? “I... I don't know,” she whispered as Daisy put her down on her feet, closing and opening her hands. The lines in her palms wouldn't disappear. “I'm... getting colder... am I... turning into one of them?”

Would she become just like Mickey – an unfeeling soldier who would carry out the Snow Queen's whims? But as she thought of this, a new question popped up. If the soldiers could take people away without the Snow Queen's aide, then why had the woman herself shown up to personally kidnap Mickey?

She saw the broken shards of the necklace still scattered on the ground. No one had bothered to clean it up – as far as the rest of the world was concerned, it was merely abandoned trash. Had it even been a real jewel, or a pathetic attempt by a poor jeweler in a dying village to rake in whatever money they could? The wind blew softly, and the rose in Minnie's hair lightly touched her ear. She had spent ages pining over the necklace, over its beauty and symbol, and it had been absolutely useless in bringing Mickey back. It hurt – but, why didn't it hurt as badly as she thought it should? 

If she didn't have any answers, then... this wasn't over. Her hand clenched. She was still alive. She could still walk. She could still try.

“Daisy! Minnie!”

Donald came running into the scene, with several townsfolk nearby, some searching the streets for their family and others mourning who had been taken. Donald skidded to a halt as he saw Minnie's transformation, his eyes bulging with shock. “Minnie! What... did they do this you?”

“She just fell, and then this happened!” Daisy cried, hugging Minnie close to her chest. “Oh, whatever shall we do? You can't turn into one of those dreadful beasts, you can't! We must think of something!”

Donald's eyes slid from Minnie to Daisy, and his infamous temper began to bubble. “Think of something... what, like another party? Is that going to be your answer?”

Daisy looked up, startled that he was using that dangerous tone on her. “Sir Donald?”

“Don't you 'sir' me!” he snapped, pointing at finger at her, and many others joined in heated glaring. “You're supposed to be in charge around here, helping us, telling us what to do, but you keep throwing these stupid parties that don't solve anything! You put the whole kingdom in danger! If they did something to Minnie, it's your fault!”

The princess paled, drawing in on herself while still holding Minnie, who looked back and forth between them both. “I... I didn't mean to... I was... I was just trying to...”

“You were just thinking about yourself! Wasting our money, our energy, our time, all just to make sure you're happy!” Now he leaned in dangerously close, trying to ignore Daisy's pitiful whimpering. The other townsfolk began to rant and rave in agreement, yelling out harsh names and the loved ones they had lost. Cascading tears fell down Daisy's face, unable to argue back, unable to explain herself. Minnie watched as Daisy appeared to collapse in on herself like a dying star, losing her light and hope. 

Ratface hopped onto Minnie's shoulder, murmuring to her ear. “We should get while the getting's good, pretty girl.”

Minnie didn't go anywhere. She couldn't make her legs move. She felt Daisy's hands weaken around her, and then Minnie lightly took Daisy's fingers and pushed them back.

“We should have been fighting them outside instead of dancing inside!” Donald continued to snarl, his voice getting louder and louder with each fiery accusation. “The soldiers are mean to protect people, but you kept them away from the gates! How are we ever supposed to save our people like this? We should have been on guard!”

“Would that have changed anything?”

Minnie's interruption was so quiet and so calm that it silenced the entire area, with all eyes turning on her. It made her uncomfortable but she didn't stop, keeping her head held high and not looking away from Donald's surprised gaze. “I remembered what Clarabelle and Horace told me... that they never actually stopped the Snow Queen's soldiers from taking anyone away. Has anyone ever actually been able to stop them? Even before all these parties began?”

Daisy stared at Minnie in transfixed awe, stunned how such a small girl could stand up so easily to a large crowd without any sign of hesitation or fear. Donald's hand fell as he tried to come up with a counterpoint, and couldn't, even as he looked around at all the other faces for help. There were mumbles and shuffles, but nothing definitive. “I... well... no. We've... never actually... been able to stop them from taking anyone they targeted...” Yet his anger wasn't so easily defeated, and he tried again. “That doesn't make what she did right! We shouldn't be partying all the time!”

“Then what should you be doing?” Minnie asked with all the gentleness and sincerity within her. “Is there anything you can do to prevent the Snow Queen from ever returning? To get back anyone you've lost?” She thought of her home, of the rules they followed to the letter, and the idea that this happy place full of warm people turning into that made her heart ache. “She was doing something... not the best something. But something. What have you been doing?”

It was the final blow, and the furious crowd now looked like young children who had been disciplined rightly by their parents. Some began to disperse, hanging their heads low, and Donald's entire body sagged in defeat. He didn't want to admit Minnie was right. He wanted to be angry at someone he could actually win against, but you couldn't win against the Snow Queen.

“Strong words, pretty girl,” Ratface said, “But what will you do now? Your boy didn't even look at you. How can you expect to save him? If the soldiers can't fight them, how can you?”

“Exactly, how can you fight-” Donald cut himself off that time, pausing to process what he just heard and who he just heard it from. “Your pet can talk?!”

“No, her pet can't talk, because I'm not a pet,” Ratface replied, sticking his beak high in the air.

While Donald tried to comprehend the speech abilities of a raven, Daisy cradled Minnie's hand in her own, worried about how cold it felt. “The boy... the one you went after. The Snow Queen took him from you, didn't he? I'm so sorry... once they turn like that, they never listen to anyone. It's hopeless.”

It did seem hopeless. Minnie couldn't think of anything that could break Mickey free from the spell. If she kept going now, the Snow Queen might finish the job and make her one of her minions too. There were infinite reasons to stop the journey here and now.

There was one reason to go.

“I came to this kingdom because I'm headed to where the Snow Queen keeps my friend.” Minnie said, not looking at either duck, her eyes forward and clear. “And I've stayed long enough. I must keep going.” With that, she pulled away from Daisy's tender hand and began to walk.

Princess and commoner gaped at her, at the sheer lack of logic she seemed to have, and both made a grab for her arm.

“Didn't you hear a word we said?” Donald shouted, holding Minnie's left arm.

“You can't possibly face the Snow Queen and live!” Daisy added, holding Minnie's right.

Minnie stood her ground. “What other choice do I have?” To live without living? To die alone and unhappy? To let things stand by and never even attempt to change it? Even if it was hopeless, even if the odds were stacked against her... “I will try, and try, and try, until I can try no more. Now, please let me go.”

If the journey didn't kill her, the shard would eventually. It was a choice of doing something or nothing – which, in its own way, was what Daisy was trying to do, even if it hadn't been “right”. Not many people would think Minnie's quest was “right” either. But even a wrong thing was, perhaps, better than nothing at all. Was sitting around, waiting for the inevitable, really the “right” thing? A slim, next to nothing chance was better than none, and Minnie would not, could not, budge on this.

“She's a stubborn fool,” Ratface said snidely, although he was tempted to bite off their fingers if they didn't release her. “So you won't change her mind. Believe me, I've tried, and if I can't do it, neither of you can.”

Daisy looked at Donald, and Donald looked at Daisy. Daisy swallowed quietly, and then hugged Minnie's arm in an even tighter embrace. “If you're going... then I'm going too!”

Donald let out a loud “WAK!”, staggering backwards. “You?! You too?! You two have lost your marbles!”

“I'm the princess, am I not?” Daisy said huffily, fingers entwining with Minnie's. “My people are my responsibility! It's high time I did something about it! You were right... parties aren't solving anything. I will go with Minnie, and get my people home! Come, Minnie, let us take down that wicked winter tyrant! I shall take my finest carriage and strongest horses!”

Minnie blinked a few times, surprised at the generous offer. She didn't want to put Daisy in danger – but, well, it'd be rather hypocritical to tell Daisy otherwise, wouldn't it? If anything, Daisy would be putting Minnie in danger, with her love for Donald making her a constant target of the Snow Queen's soldiers. So Minnie nodded, and squeezed Daisy's hand in reassurance. “Thank you.”

Daisy offered a kind smile. “You are so very gorgeous when you smile, my dear.”

Was Minnie smiling? She had no idea. Ratface was grumbling, shaking his head. “If she starts to sing, I'm gone, just you wait.”

Donald sputtered as he watched the two girls walk off. “But... but... but... AW, PHOOEY!” He stormed over re-seized Minnie's hand, his face flush with anger. “I'm coming with you!”

Ratface tried to kick Donald's shoulder. “This is getting too crowded!”

“If I can't be a guardsman,” Donald said as he ignored Ratface's attack, “Then this is the next best thing! I'll protect the people, including two of its biggest nutjobs.”

Daisy grinned, and hoisted Minnie's hand high in the air. “Let us be off! Watch out, Snow Queen, for us band of heroes shall take you down, or die trying!”

“... Die?” Donald quietly moaned.

“We might just end up killing each other,” Ratface mused, taking one more swipe at Donald.

The chill in Minnie's body didn't stop, but now it had a new warmth to combat with. She had yet to realize the smile on her face remained, and grew more beautiful the longer it stayed. Maybe with these two, they could form new ideas on how to rescue Mickey and put an end to the eternal nightmare around them. Maybe they could protect each other from new dangers. Maybe they could win.

Donald argued with Ratface, and Daisy sang triumphantly about the beginning of their noble quest. They didn't let go of Minnie for a long time, and she saw no reason to encourage it. She had never felt warmer.

~*~

The Snow Queen saw many things, as her magic allowed her to watch any reflective surface within her magical staff. She sat atop her icy throne, fingers tapping on the edge. The raid on the Golden Kingdom had been mostly successful. Soon her soldiers would return with their targets, who in turn would become soldiers as well. It had gone perfectly.

Except Mickey hadn't taken the princess.

How was that possible? She had given him an explicit order, and all her soldiers obeyed them to the letter. There should have been nothing to prevent this, and there was nothing that could interfere with her magic.

Her fingers clutched the armrest. No, that wasn't true. Only one thing could interfere with an angel's magic.

The presence of a demon – an extremely powerful one. Just being there could disrupt the flow of magic and make her soldier miss one target.

She inhaled deeply and leaned back in her seat. No matter. She would snatch the girl up, it was only a matter of time, and she had endless amounts of time. She wouldn't give demons a second thought. They didn't need her “lesson” about the pains and uselessness of love.

She knew all too well that demons couldn't love anyone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new journey stops as abruptly as it began, and with it, Minnie discovers more wonders than she ever thought existed.

Donald, at least, had enough sense to make sure they didn't go traveling in their ballroom outfits. Daisy had fussed about it, but eventually Minnie was back in her original outfit, along with the beautiful red shoes, while Donald and Daisy chose thinner, plainer outfits – although for Daisy, “plain” still meant plenty of ribbons and sequins.

In addition, Daisy made a brief announcement to the townsfolk about the journey, which brought waves of fear and hope to her people. There were just as many people who thought they'd never return as those who wanted a fighting chance. The final preparations were made after a good night's rest, and in the early morning Donald, Daisy, Minnie and Ratface were off.

Donald sat atop the carriage to lead two mud-brown horses, and Ratface perched on his shoulder to pester Donald about which direction was wrong. Within the carriage, Daisy fussed with Minnie's hair as Minnie thought of the night's events.

“You know,” Daisy was saying as she began to braid Minnie's locks, “sometimes when my mother did something wrong, my father would insult her alphabetically. Atrocious, boring, cowardly, the like. By the time he got to the Ps, she usually begged him to stop and admitted she was wrong. Maybe we can do something like that to the Snow Queen! Annoy her into submission!”

“Then we've got the right people for the job,” Ratface quipped outside.

The princess huffed. “I truly don't care for your traveling companion, darling Minnie. If he has been gifted the power of speech, he should only have nice things to say.”

Minnie, who didn't mind being pampered by Daisy, glanced back at her friend. “So it is true... birds aren't supposed to talk like he does.” At times she had wondered if, like so many other things she was learning, it was merely her village's lack of care to inform her.

“Of course not!” Daisy turned Minnie back around to face her. “Oh, there are many pretty birds who can sing sweet melodies and repeat phrases back to you, but I must say, I've never heard of a bird as smart and ill-tongue as this one. I'd say he's been blessed by an angel, but for us it's more like a curse.”

There came that odd word again, and now seemed a good as time as any to inquire about it. “What's an angel?” Minnie asked, hands politely laying on her lap.

Daisy tsked, pulling out her now trademark fan from her sleeve. “Honestly, I must have a word with your teachers, my sweet, for they have hardly told you a thing! But, never fear, I shall be your tutor from now on in all the ways of the world! You shall be as brilliant as you are beautiful, and become the envy of all!” She flipped the fan open, and held it flat on her palm. “Now, to answer you... long ago, when the world was still fresh and new, there were only two things that existed – angels, and demons. They were both incredibly powerful magical creatures, but they were constantly fighting each other.”

Minnie tilted her head. “What for?”

“Oh, who knows, people always find some silly reason not to get along.” With a dismissive wave of her hand, Daisy continued. “Eventually they decided that the world could use more than just themselves, so they finally came to a truce and began to create life. At first, it all worked out. They made plants and animals, and let those roam about, but when they started making humans, that's when it all got tricky. The angels wanted to guide people to a pure and proper path, and the demons wanted people to cause chaos and trouble. Next thing you know, the war's started up all over again, and their numbers dwindled just like that.” She snapped her fingers before holding up the fan again. “Only this time, it was worse, because they began to get humans involved. The demons kept trying to trick people into harming angels, while the angels did their best to protect those poor souls from the demons' wrath. Soon it got so intense that it became their sole reason for existing – to get revenge on the other half.”

Minnie was already thinking of a few plot holes and gaps in this story, but she didn't want to interrupt. It all seemed so terribly black and white, and one of the things she'd been learning was that things were rarely so simple. “What happened then? Who won the war?”

“No one did,” Daisy answered with a half shrug. “It got so bad that they wiped each other out. Though there are those who say a handful still exist and guide us to this day. It's said that the little voices you hear in your head are the demons and angels trying to lead you toward their path.”

As if to check this for certain, Minnie paused, glancing upwards, to see if she'd hear any voices. She could only hear herself. “Have you ever seen one? An angel or a demon?”

“Goodness, no, no one's seen one for years,” Daisy replied, resting against the plush seats. “It's a shame, really. We could use some angels on our side to help us against the Snow Queen.”

“It's a load of hogwash,” Donald said outside, his voice gruff and irritated. “There's no such thing as angels or demons! It's just a bunch of made up stuff folks use to try and explain away your conscience. 'Oh, I didn't do it, the demons made me!' Ah, phooey. If you did something bad, you should own up to it. End of story.”

“Sir Donald is so wonderfully wise, isn't he?” Daisy sighed, hands clasped together, eyes shimmering in adoration.

Minnie thought it amazing that Daisy could still hold a bright and burning torch for Donald after he yelled at her so harshly the night before. Was it because Daisy was just that ditzy, or was this the ongoing power of love? Minnie looked outside as they passed fading hills of grass and gray clouds darkened their path. They were headed toward a dangerous woman who had forbidden love, yet Daisy wasn't doing anything at all to suppress her feelings. She didn't even seem to be making an effort.

For the first time in days, Minnie thought about the words the Snow Queen had said when she came to take Mickey away. 

_I make this world safe for you, and I am repaid in defiance.  
Love brings you nothing but pain.  
Yes, you'll live much longer this way. Isn't that for the best?_

“Have you ever seen her?” Minnie asked softly, and when Daisy blinked in confusion, she continued. “The Snow Queen... she personally came to take Mickey. But at your kingdom, it was only the soldiers. Why was that?”

Daisy “hmmm”ed this over loudly, propping up her beak with her fan. “I've never seen her, no, no. But it's said she used to make appearances long ago, when she first inflicted those awful rules on the world. After that, she must have gained enough soldiers so she didn't need to visit every single place herself...” She trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as the question lingered. “Indeed, why did she show up at your little village, to take away one single boy? Your Mickey must be something incredibly special.”

“He is,” Minnie replied automatically. “He's very smart, and very kind, and he never gives up on anything and anyone.” She didn't know why these facts made Daisy grin, she was merely stating what was true. Why, if anyone met Mickey, they'd agree with all of it within seconds.

“Oooh-ho-ho-ho~!” Daisy suddenly had her arms around Minnie and pulled her into her lap, nuzzling her beak to Minnie's cold cheek. “I see how it is, most wonderful Minnie! You can't hide such things from me,” Daisy tittered, ignoring Minnie's quiet protest that she wasn't hiding anything at all, “Your Mickey may be very special to the Snow Queen, but he is most special to _you_ , is he not? Your prince charming, your knight in shining armor, your one true love?”

“My...love?” Minnie repeated slowly, the idea fresh and new to her. It sounded so foreign – Minnie had been so desperate to eliminate all traces of the very idea since she was locked outside on that awful day years ago, that she never thought of the concept again. That same fear rose up again, clenching her throat. “He's my friend. I'm going to save him because he's my friend, and the village needs him.”

“Hush hush, I know these things when I see them.” Daisy rocked Minnie back and forth in her arms. “This is an epic, romantic quest, the likes of which will be sung throughout history! Mickey and Minnie, destined for one another, a love that cannot be conquered! A love that cannot be defeated! A love that-”

“Will you please stop saying 'love'!” Donald squawked from his seat, nearly shaking the carriage with his temper. “Why don't we just send out fancy invitations for the Snow Queen to find us?! Jiminy Cricket, we'll be lucky if we survive the day!”

Minnie jerked, and then rushed for the door. “Wait, Donald, don't-”

But it was too late, and Ratface was flying into a rage. “DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT WORD!” he screeched, wings in the air and flapping in Donald's face. “DON'T YOU MUTTER IT, DON'T YOU THINK IT!”

Donald yelped, trying to pull the horses to a stop with one hand and protect his face with the other. “What's going on?! You'll poke my eye out, you dumb bird!”

“Ratface, stop!” Minnie begged, her head sticking out the open window. “Ratface, he didn't know! Please calm down!”

“What in the world is happening?!” Daisy tried to keep steady in her seat as the carriage now bumped and bucked, the horses startled by all the sudden noise.

“Luck is a horrid curse, a blight on humanity!” Ratface flew all around the carriage, yelling at the top of his lungs. “Anyone who says they have it should be thrown off the edge of the world! It's a threat, it's a danger, and so long as I am here on this journey, it shall never be uttered again! Or this will be the last you hear of me!”

As tempting as it was for Donald to say otherwise to that, he was more focused on getting the horses to settle. Minnie held out her hand, hoping Ratface could see it. “It was one mistake, pretty bird, it won't happen again! Come here, we won't say it anymore. You trust me, don't you?”

Ratface flew another circle around the carriage before landing on Minnie's arm, and she drew back inside, sitting him on her lap and smoothing down his feathers with her fingers. “There now... do you feel better?”

Daisy lightly swung her fan at Ratface, eager to clock him but not wanting to cause Minnie distress. “You nearly made us crash! If anything had happened to Sir Donald or my Minnie, I'd have every one of your feathers plucked! I wish you could never speak again!”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us,” Ratface huffed, turning his head away.

Donald was pulling the carriage to a stop, climbing down so he could make sure the horses were all right. Minnie looked down at the bird in her lap, curious once more. “Ratface... were you not born this way? Did something happen to you that made you speak?”

The raven said nothing, but his eyes didn't turn in Minnie's direction at all, which to her was an answer. He could feel Daisy glaring daggers at him, and he huffed once more, fluffing his wings. “Must you all make such a deal out of my speech? So I talk. What of it? I can't do anything else. I can't fight, I can't create, I am merely a bird with words. I don't fit in with other birds, who can't understand what I say, and I can't fit in with those who talk, since they only see a filthy animal. I belong to nothing and no one.”

“That sounds very lonely,” said Minnie, who now had more questions than ever about the odd bird. The one special thing about him, and it made him an outcast – she thought of Mickey again, whose liveliness made him admirable and despised. Mickey had dealt with it since childhood – how old was Ratface, who, when Minnie found him, had been all alone in those winter woods?

“Don't go looking for pity here,” Daisy grumbled, although she was starting to feel it.

“I wasn't asking for any.” Ratface stuck his tongue out at the princess. “Nor do I deserve any.”

“He's not a bad bird,” Minnie insisted, hugging Ratface close to her chest. “He's tried to help other people to the Snow Queen, and he saved me from a very bad woman. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have gotten this far.”

Daisy's eyes lowered to Ratface, and she raised an eyebrow. “And what does he get out of it?”

“Isn't helping people good enough?” Minnie asked in return, because she couldn't think of any actual reason Ratface would do the things he did. He gained nothing from this journey except danger.

Yet Ratface's body seemed to sag then, his eyes distant and voice shallow. “You're still naive as ever, pretty girl.” His voice was so soft Minnie almost didn't hear him at first. “Let it be known, no one ever helps another without wanting something for themselves. Even if it's impossible to get.”

Naturally both girls would have asked more endless questions, but as these things happen, they were interrupted - there were sounds of hoof-beats, but they didn't belong to the horses. All three looked out the window to see a herd of reindeer clopping along the beaten dirt path – a strange sight in of itself – but even stranger to see they were all being ridden by grown men in shabby cloaks, each one wearing a tiny black mask over their eyes, laughing and hollering and hooting. The furthest reindeer in the back were dragging a caravan with broken wooden wheels, the patchwork covers suggesting a long and sordid history.

Donald drew back, worried. “Beagles!”

Daisy gasped in terror. “Beagles!”

Minnie cocked her head. “Beagles?”

Ratface, not wanting to be left out, added “Beagles! … What are Beagles?”

“Those are the robbers who assaulted me!” Daisy pulled Minnie back into her arms. “Oh, if they recognize me, we're in trouble!”

Donald came to the door, his back to the window, ready to protect the girls. “It was over a month ago, maybe they won't know who we are. We'll let them take the carriage, and they might leave us alone. Everyone, just stay calm.”

“Says the man who has an infamous temper,” Ratface chirped before Minnie clamped his beak shut with her fingers.

“HOW IS THAT HELPING?!”

The reindeer circled around the carriage, and the masked men – of all shapes and sizes continued to laugh darkly at their captors, swinging around shoddy weaponry. The biggest of the caravan's tents began to open up, and a portly woman climbed down, wearing the same silly mask as all the men, her gray hair tied up neatly behind her large head. She adjusted her yellow hat, smoothed down her quilt-patterned dress, and walked step by step to the carriage. “All right, boys, everybody shut up!” In that second, all the men were silenced. “There, now I can hear myself think.” Satisfied, she stood in front of Donald, eyebrows raised. “Nobody here wants any trouble, now do they? Of course not. You want safe travel from the Golden Kingdom to... wherever you want to be. And we can arrange that!”

Donald was clearly struggling not to make some sort of smart remark, and he swallowed hard. “We would... appreciate that, miss.”

The woman paused, then squinted. “Say... have we met before, young man?”

“You most certainly have not!” Daisy shouted within the carriage, causing Ratface and Donald to mutually slap their foreheads.

Minnie frowned – perhaps a fresh face would confuse their memories enough to let them pass. She shifted Ratface onto her shoulder, and gently pushed the door open, even as Daisy whined otherwise. “Excuse me, miss,” she said politely as ever once her feet were on the dirt ground. “Is there a problem?”

For a moment, this did the trick – Minnie's blue lined-body was enough to stun the entire family of thieves into silence, greatly startled at her appearance. So much that when the woman started up again, she had to clear her throat, completely forgetting why she had stopped in the first place. “There's no problem at all, little girl! Unless you count paying taxes as a problem. And anyone who wants to cross these roads needs to pay up.”

Minnie opened her hands to show they were empty. “I'm afraid we don't have any money.”

“Which is why we'll gladly let you take the carriage,” Donald said quickly, making sure to step in front of Minnie. “It should pay enough for all of us!”

The woman clicked her tongue. “And that's all you have? Oh, I do hate to call you young ones liars, but these are dangerous times you live in. You can't trust anyone. But we have ways of finding out the truth.” She then placed one hand on her hip, and the other near her mouth, and hollered, “GOOFY! GET YOUR LAZY, SCRAWNY, USELESS BEHIND OVER HERE, PRONTO!”

There was a yelp and a crash within the very last of the caravans – the smallest and dirtiest as well – and finally someone tumbled out of the entrance and onto the ground with a loud THUD. While this was clearly a canine in nature, he didn't resemble any of the Beagles at all – he was far too thin, and colored in rich black as opposed to his brown brethren. As he stood up, all of his clothes shifted to one side, as if he'd been wearing the same material for years – Minnie, who had gone through the exact conditions at home, recognized it at once. Yes, he, like she, had been made to wear the same thing even when it had ripped and torn and he'd been forced to sew it together. However, the rest of the Beagles' clothes appeared neat and tidy, as if they were allowed to buy – or steal – new ones whenever they pleased.

He pulled up his pants to make sure they wouldn't sag any further before walking up to the woman, his back bent so he could try and match her eye, hands together in a pleading fashion. “What can I do fer ya, Ma?” He smiled, his buck teeth catching his mother's reflection.

“Why don't you come as soon as I call you?” Ma snapped, grabbing a fistful of Goofy's ear and dragging him down further. Several of the Beagles began to laugh, and Minnie felt her heart twist.

“But, but I did! I came as soon as you said my name, Ma, I really-”

“Don't you backtalk to me! If it wasn't for me, you'd be starving on the streets!” Another hard tug of his ear, and Goofy bit down on his lower lip. “Now try and be useful for once!” She let him go with a push. “These folks say they only have the carriage, and nothing else to pay with. Use that weird gift of yours to find out the truth.”

“Yes, Ma.” Goofy rubbed his aching ear, and then calmly approached the two horses. He cocked his head once, and then reached out to tenderly stroke the first one's hair. “Howdy-doo, fellas. Mind if'fn I ask you a question or two?”

Minnie glanced to Donald, her eyes asking if this had happened the last time, and Donald glanced back, shaking his head. This was new to him.

The horse made a soft noise, and Goofy nodded. “Thank ya'kindly. So, we was wonderin', these nice people you're pullin' along, did they bring anythin' valuable with 'em? Not valuable for a horse, I reckon, 'less they got some juicy apples tucked in somewhere.” He chuckled at his joke, but when he looked at his mother for approval, he only got a harsh glare. He gulped. “Uh... what I mean is, they stash any gold or jewelry in this here carriage?” The horse shook its head no, and Donald's jaw dropped.

Daisy lowered her voice to a whisper inside the carriage, trying to keep her head low. “Minnie, am I hearing things, or is he actually talking to the horses?”

“Yes,” Minnie answered, “And what's more, they understand him.” She knew many animals could understand people, but only for certain commands and after many, many attempts. This was instant, as if they were merely speaking the same language.

Goofy turned back to his family. “He says... neigh!” He grinned, hoping this pun would land. Daisy tittered within the carriage, Donald rolled his eyes, Ratface stayed neutral, and Minnie made that odd noise in her mouth that she didn't understand was the sound of giggling. Even a few Beagles covered their mouths with their hands. But Ma continued to glare, arms crossed, one foot tapping the dirt. “See, uh, cause, 'neigh' sounds like 'nay', which means no. It's a play on words, Ma, it's, uh...just a joke.”

“Feel like tellin' jokes, do you?” Ma growled deep in her throat, and then arched her back. “Hey, boys! What do you call the biggest idiot with the smallest brain?”

“Goofy!” they all cheered in response before devolving into more hysteric laughter, and Goofy's eyes fell to the ground, fingers twiddling together.

“That's not a funny joke at all,” Minnie said, frowning.

“I daresay it was more of an insult than a punchline,” Daisy agreed, sticking her head out the window. “To think she could say that about her own child!”

Donald held up a hand. “I don't like it any more than you do, but we can't play hero for everyone. We'll give them the carriage, and then we're off.”

The laughter eventually died down and Ma sighed, feeling better. “At least he's good for something... All right then! We _will_ take your pretty little carriage as payment. Everybody out!”

That only meant Daisy, and she took her time stepping out, nervously grasping for Minnie and Donald's hands for comfort – both were squeezed in assurance. Ma paused, then snapped her fingers. “Bigtime! Bouncer! Burger!” Three of her sons climbed down off their reindeer, stood next to their mother and saluted. “Is it just me, or does that blonde missy look familiar?”

The trio cupped their chins and gave it serious thought.  
“Now that you mention it...”  
“I feel like I've seen her somewhere...”  
“I could use a sandwich...”

“Oh, I got some snacks!” Goofy offered, digging into his pocket as he began to walk over. “I was gunna save 'em for the reindeer, they get awful hungry, but I can always get more-” How he tripped over his own feet, Minnie didn't know, but Goofy did exactly that, landing in front of Donald, Minnie, and Daisy. He blinked up at them, connecting the dots. “Say, Ma, didn't you say you once tried to rob a princess? She sure is pretty as one, what with that nice dress and all. And ain't this one fancy carriage for just a couple a common folk?”

“Princess!” Donald was quick to speak, throwing his hand about. “You must be nuts! What would a princess be doing out here, without any guards or any treasure?”

The Beagles murmured about this, coming in an agreement. Minnie, wanting to help, added a few more details. “Why would a commoner like myself be with a princess?” She curtsied, showing off her ragged dress from the village. “We used all our money to buy this carriage, that's why there's nothing else for you to take.” Ratface nodded in quiet approval.

Ma tilted her head back and forth, jostling around her memories. “I guess it might've just been my imagination. That bratty, foolish wart of a royal surely isn't stupid enough to bother my neck of the woods.”

“Absolutely right!” said Daisy, hands on her hips, standing on her toes, in full confident display. “And the princess of the Golden Kingdom, who I'm definitely not, is such a kind, generous, beautiful, loving person, so even though I'm astonishingly beautiful, humble, and wonderful to a fault, there's simply no way I could ever be her!”

This time Minnie joined in with Donald and Ratface in slapping her forehead, although she didn't know why.

~*~

“I can't help but wonder if this is my fault,” Daisy whispered, trying to adjust herself to be more comfortable, although this was difficult, seeing as she was stuck in a small iron cage.

“It might be,” Minnie replied, sitting in a similar cage next to her, rubbing her hands together for warmth. The sun was falling, and they were far away from the campfire the Beagles had set up for the night.

Donald was still wrestling with the lock to his cage, as if the several dozen attempts before had somehow weakened it and surely this time would do the trick. But they hadn't, and it didn't, and he let out a furious stream of quacks as he flailed about in his cage. All that managed to do was tilt it to its side, so Donald landed on his hip and he quacked again in pain.

“I knew bringing you along was a bad idea,” Ratface commented, sitting atop Minnie's cage. The Beagles had let him be, thinking him an ordinary bird. Whenever he was sure the Beagles weren't looking, he fiddled with Minnie's lock, and only hers. The thieves were celebrating, because surely the kingdom would pay handsomely to get their princess back. So they drank and ate to their heart's content, thinking that anything they'd waste tonight they'd make up for in the days to come. Ma was laughing the loudest, and drinking the most, throwing her empty mug into the fire and cackling as it burnt up.

Minnie heard her stomach growl – she hadn't eaten since they first left the kingdom. The Beagles had let her keep the satchel, as it had only contained old vegetables and blades of grass, nothing of worth to them. She opened her satchel and tried to calculate how much was left that she could split between her and her companions. Maybe if she gave up her share, the others could eat more, and that seemed like a fair trade to her. She'd gone many times without a meal back in the village, she could certainly do that again here.

“Soup's on!”

The three prisoners weren't expecting a visitor, and especially not the cheerful Goofy, who casually picked up Donald's fallen cage and placed him back into the empty traveling caravan without missing a beat. He closed the flap behind him, making sure no one could see them. “It ain't much, but it'll warm your stomachs plenty.” He slid wooden bowls into the cages, sitting bow-legged in front of them with a never-ending smile. The broth was milky white, with bits of cooked meat floating about.

Daisy haughtily turned her head away. “Why should we trust anything from you? I won't touch it, it's probably poisoned!” The dignified response was promptly flattened when she heard a distasteful _slurrrrrrrrp_ to her side, and stared slack-jawed at Minnie, who had promptly downed her entire bowl.

Minnie didn't realize she was being stared at until she had started licking the bowl. “What? I'm hungry.”

Donald snorted, and then picked up his bowl. “Well, if she's not getting sick...” He took a few sips, grateful to have something in his belly.

Daisy puffed out her cheeks, but after a few more seconds, gave in and delicately sipped her own. “If it is poisoned, I promise I'll haunt you forever.”

“Aw, they wouldn't poison me,” Goofy replied, although he did have to think it over now that he said it. “At least, not on purpose.”

Minnie stopped licking again, raising her eyebrows. “You? … Are you saying this is your food?”

“Mmm-hmm. Ma said not to waste food on you all, since you're our hostages and what not, but, well, didn't sit right with me. You might be hostages, but you're still guests, and gotta treat guests proper, 'cause you never know when you're gunna see them again.”

Donald looked down at his half-empty bowl. “Is the guy who helped kidnap us really trying to make us feel sorry for him?” He'd have preferred poison over guilt.

“It's not fair if you starve because you helped us,” Minnie protested, and she pulled out a wilted head of lettuce from her satchel, trying to fit it between the bars. “Here, take this. It's not much... Oh!” She then added the blades of grass. “And these are for the horses. Could you make sure they eat up too?”

Goofy's eyes widened, and he slowly took the plants from Minnie, weighing them in his hands as if they were golden treasures. “Gee... really? You might be the nicest hostages we ever done had. No one ever gives a hoot about the animals.”

Minnie sat up straighter in her cage. “You can speak to them, right? Isn't that what we saw?”

“Aw, anyone can speak to an animal,” Goofy said with a shrug of his shoulder. “But not everyone can listen. Been able to do that since I was born... just a little talent I got, ain't nothin' special.”

“It is special!” Daisy insisted, grabbing the bars with her hands. “I've never heard of anyone being able to translate what an animal says or means! How can you not be special? That's absurd! I declare you to be very special.”

Goofy blinked – this overwhelming abundance of positive comments was brand new. “But Ma says it ain't, and Ma's always right about everything. Whatever she says, goes. Why, it's the only thing I can do right, so she says it's lucky that -”

In an instant Minnie reached up to grab Ratface's legs through the bars, preventing him from going on another tirade. “No, no, no, no! Ratface, this is not a good time!”

Ratface screeched, but let himself be yanked, not wanting to accidentally hurt Minnie with his talons. “Why does everyone insist on saying that horrendous word!”

Goofy triple-blinked. Though he'd spent a lifetime communicating with animals, this was the first time he'd heard one speak so clearly like a person. Aside from that, he didn't give it anymore thought. “Aw gee, Mister Ratface, I didn't mean to upset you! But, uh, what'd I do wrong this time?”

“Aside from caging us?” Donald grumbled.

Minnie pulled Ratface into the cage with her and sat him on his lap. “He doesn't like that... word that begins with L.”

“Oh. Ain't that a coinky-dink,” Goofy mused to himself, eyes rolling upward. “Snow Queen doesn't like a L-word herself, right? It's a real shame, missin' out on words. Y'know, I always wondered why the queenie up and forbade that. Maybe if the Snow Queen allowed us to love all normal-like, Ma would treat me better... she says she can't be nice to me, or else the Snow Queen would up and take her away.”

The prisoners highly doubted that was the case. Daisy whipped out her fan, hoping to cool down her soup. “Well, when I was a little girl, the story was that a mirror came to life, and couldn't stand the thought of anyone loving anyone but itself, and that's the Snow Queen's true form.”

“Nah, nah.” Donald waved a hand. “Way I heard it, a bunch of demons were trying to carry a mirror up a mountain, but then they broke it, and the shards became the Snow Queen.”

Goofy scratched the bulbous bump on his head. “Huh... I got a bunch brothers who say the story in a bunch of different ways. Y'think any of them could be the right one?” Now everyone's attention was to Minnie, curious about what her past said about the Queen.

But Minnie didn't have any stories, and she suddenly felt a bit ashamed of it. “Oh... well... I don't think we ever really tried to find out where she came from, in my village. We always just accepted she was there. I've never heard a single story about the Snow Queen, just her rules.”

Ratface walked out of Minnie's lap, and right out of the cage. He didn't look at any of them, but he spoke in a distant matter. “The night is long. Perhaps it's time I gave you a story, pretty girl. Your first story.”

Minnie leaned forward in the cage, trying to understand. “Ratface?”

He still did not look back, and there was a trace of moonlight that slipped into the tent, encasing the old bird in its glow, and his green eyes shimmered in a despair that none of them could truly grasp.

“Maybe it's true. Maybe it isn't. You can listen, or you can ignore. But I will speak it anyways, and then never again. So do well, pretty girl, to make up your mind.”

“This is a story... of a man who destroyed his lover for luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> This chapter has probably had the least amount of changes to it since I first thought it up years ago. Other than that, not much to say, and hope you enjoy it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time, there were angels and demons. A trick was played to seize power, but the entire world wound up paying the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my awesome editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> The two named demons are random villain names I picked out of Inducks. Bless you, Inducks.
> 
> Some of you guessed correctly about Ratface's identity! This was the first time I'd ever written this pairing. This role in particular got a lot of changes over the years (at one point, it was actually one of the dolls from Mother's house) but hopefully this one worked out.

Once upon a time, there was a demon who was nothing special. He had the same abilities as his brethren, and he did the same things as them, but none of this made him noteworthy. He knew this, and didn't care for it. To be quite honest, there was nothing he cared about except himself. He didn't care about the futile war between his kind and the angels, the useless humans crawling around the earth, or even his fellow demons who mocked his woes. He wanted to make himself as special as he thought he was, and one day, he discovered how.

~*~

“Blasted angels,” Azimuth grumbled, brushing dirt off his skin. “I almost had them! An entire family of mortals, willing to work for us! Grandparents, uncles, kids, the whole group, I had them right in my hands!”

“But you didn't, so can we cut to the chase already?” Sirena said with a great roll of her eyes, though most of her aggravation wasn't at the big-beaked blabbermouth. “Gladstone! Do you feel like getting up anytime this century?”

Apparently his pretending-to-nap routine wasn't working today. The young man sighed from his perch in the tree, sitting up on the thick branch and looking down at his friends. Well, 'friends' was a stretch – 'acquaintances he could tolerate more than others' was perhaps more accurate, but longer to say. “What do you need me for? I'm no more powerful than either one of you. The day's already shot, let me get back to sleep.”

“Yes, you're a weakling,” Sirena conceded, hands on her hips, blowing some of her blonde hair out of her face. “But you're a charming weakling. You can get a mortal to do whatever you say with one look. If we hurry now, we can get to the next village and pick on some prey before the angels Azimuth ran into catch on.”

“I almost had them,” Azimuth whined again, demanding to be heard. “I was so close! I just needed a little more power!”

“Well, power doesn't grow on trees – and neither do demons.” Sirena then kicked the tree as hard as she could, and with a startled yelp, Gladstone fell down into the bushes. He popped out, his golden curls flopping all over the place.

“Remind me to take my naps further away from you,” Gladstone grumbled as he stood up and brushed himself down. What was the big deal about luring humans to their side anyway? It wasn't going to make any real difference in the end. No one cared about winning this stupid war, they just wanted petty vengeance at this point. Only the truly serious wanted supreme victory, and those fools died as a result of it. Every year there were less angels and demons as a result, and Gladstone figured at that rate, they'd all die out if they put so much stock into feeling superior.

Count him out. He wanted to be superior to both angels and demons, and that way, he figured he'd be alive forever. He stuck his hands in his pockets and followed the taller demons out in the forest, huffing all the while. Sirena, bothersome ninny that she was, had raised a good point. You couldn't just get more power by whining about it, you were born with your talents and that was that. Some demons and angels were born stronger than others, the same with mortals, it was all a game of chance. So Gladstone was never going to be more special than these two idiots.

Although...there was _one_ way to become a more powerful demon. But he knew these two knuckleheads would never agree to it. Few demons would, bitter and selfish as they were.

The village was a short walk, and not worth much, if Gladstone's opinion was asked. It was a desolate dying thing, but the farmers appeared happy enough, digging in the mud for extra vegetables and laughing with abandon when they found extras. One burly man hoisted his son over his shoulders, showing him how to tend to the long stalks of corn nearby. They had no idea about the demons hiding about in the shadows, slinking nearby as they plotted.

“Papa, this field grew twice as much corn as last time!” the little boy discovered, handling an ear of corn in his tiny hands.

His father laughed again. “So it did! We must be the luckiest men alive!”

Gladstone paused in his sneaking, eyebrow raised. There was a word he'd never heard before, and he nudged his friends. “Luckiest? What's a luckiest?”

“You mean, luck? It's some silly concept the mortals came up with,” Azimuth said with a wave of his hand. “The idea of good things happening to you over and over without you having to do anything. They always want some name to destiny, like they have control over their lives. It's incredibly pathetic.”

It was also incredibly brilliant – Gladstone's eyes widened at the idea going through his head. Being superior in life without having to lift a finger? That was right up his alley! He could nap all he wanted and still get away with being better. Maybe mortals were good for something after all. Now there was just a matter of how to be lucky. That was the trick, and if demons were good at anything, it was tricks.

“Will you two pipe down?” Sirena snarled, kicking back at the two men. “We're almost near our target. Gladstone, you charm them. Azimuth, you threaten them. And I'll enchant them.”

“Why can't I enchant them?” Azimuth grumbled. “I'm good at enchanting! Why, last month, I charmed a mortal man into so much strength his muscles tore right though his clothes.”

“And then he whined about destroying everything he touched, so he prayed to the angels, you nitwit.” Sirena kicked him again. “We can only give away so much of our magic, and I'm not letting you waste it!”

There was the problem with Gladstone's desire – he'd need his friends to hand over a portion of their magic to make his own stronger, and once you gave it away, you couldn't take it back. He watched the two of them argue about taking turns, and knowing the day was going to be a waste, turned his attention back to the farmer and his son. A thin wife had joined them, and she lifted the boy into her arms before kissing her husband. The boy stuck out his tongue in disgust, and Gladstone had to agree. It was a gross thing to see, and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away. What were they so happy about?

They were weak. They were boring. They had to know it. So what made them smile?

“They're here!” a voice cried out, young and jubilant, its owner running across the wide fields. “The angels are here!”

“Already?!” Azimuth groaned, before shoving Sirena aside. “This is your fault! You picked the village!”

“It's your fault, they were following your lead!”

Gladstone rubbed his temples. “It'll be both your faults if they find us, so keep it down.” So long as they stayed in the dark shadows, the angels wouldn't notice them, hopefully. It was one of the few advantages the demons had, being nearly invisible in any dark place. 

Sirena pouted, not wanting to give up so easily. “Let's head closer into the village. Once the angels leave, the mortals will have their guards down! Follow me!” She continued creeping, and the men reluctantly followed, knowing they'd get an earful for disobedience. The sun was high at its peak, allowing many long shadows to be cast from the short hay and mud-made huts.

In the center of the village were four angels – Gladstone squinted – in a way, it was three angels plus one who was all by herself. All of them were bright, shining beauties, surrounded by mortals who worshiped them and thanked them for their help. They practically glowed with tenderness, petting the mortal's hair as if they were telling dogs what good boys they were. High and mighty snobs, the lot of them, Gladstone thought. But there was something very strange about the fourth one – her wings.

Demons and angels had many physical differences alongside their internal ones. Demons had long nails, slit eyes, and a constant aura of darkness. Angels had long hair, warmth in every touch, and white feathery wings on their back – at least, that's what Gladstone knew about every other angel he'd seen in his life. So why did the fourth one have _black_ wings? That was unheard of! 

Black as her short hair that hung around her neck, deep as the lines on her face that told centuries of stories, rich as her eyes that captured the sunlight and kept it. She was beautiful, yes, but not the way angels were supposed to be. Angels were supposed to be about brightness and light, not... that. She was hugging a small silver mirror close to her chest, eyes scanning the area until she spotted the same small boy Gladstone had been eyeing earlier.

Her weary expression softened, and she approached him, one hand held out. “Hello, little one,” she said in a voice so soft that it made Gladstone's heart skip. She knelt down to see the boy better, and the child was hesitant before stepping towards her. “How are you today?”

“I'm... very good,” the boy decided. “We have extra corn, Papa says we're lucky.”

The woman shook her head. “No, it wasn't luck. It was your family working very hard. Remember that. All your victories are made with your own two hands.”

“What a downer,” Sirena mused.

“And an ugly one too,” Azimuth added. “Black wings! Why does she have black wings?”

Gladstone said nothing, continuing to watch, as then the boy's mother suddenly grabbed him by the arm and yanked him away. Her eyes were on those same black wings, fearful of what they meant. The angel was startled, but not surprised, as if this wasn't the first time a wordless accusation had been thrust at her. It still hurt, but it wasn't a fresh wound. “All is well, I assure you. I just-”

“Magica,” One of the normal looking angels interrupted, her voice drone and dull. “Maybe it'd be for the best if you left the rest of this up to us.”

The black angel – Magica? - stood up straight, eyes narrowing. “I led you here with my mirror, I showed you where to go! You'd be wandering around lost if it wasn't for me. I came here to help!”

“Yes, well, you helped, so you can go.” The second angel tried to wave her away, without even looking at her, “You're scaring the poor babies, so, off with you. We'll let you know if we need you.”

Magica's hands clenched her mirror tighter, almost threatening to break it. “They are not _poor babies_ , they're human beings! They're not our pets! If we can help them, then we must, but not so much that they depend on us!” Her temper was rising, and her wings began to jerk in reaction. “Why don't you ever listen to me!” With that, her wings fully stretched out, making her appear larger than she really was - and frightening a dozen villagers who fled back into their huts. Upon seeing their terror, the woman's face fell with guilt, which made no sense to Gladstone as she hadn't done anything wrong at all.

“Nice going, Magica,” the third angel snorted. “Some help you are.”

Magica opened her mouth to likely raise another objection before silently giving up in defeat. Her wings folded up into herself, and she stormed off in the opposite direction. Gladstone watched her until she was little more than a speck in the distance, and might have watched further, had Sirena not pulled both men to her with glittering eyes. “Hey, do you think there's a reason that one has black wings?”

Gladstone blinked at the oddity of such a question. “A reason? You mean you think she wasn't born with them?”

“Of course not,” Azimuth rubbed his hands together, catching on to Sirena's train of thought. “They must be special! Anything that unique has to mean something special. They might even be a source of her power!”

“If we got those feathers for ourselves,” Sirena said with a grin, malicious lining every word. “We could be invincible! Unstoppable! We could even be the most powerful demons that ever existed!”

Gladstone chuckled darkly, walking around his friends with crossed arms. “Oh, it's a fine idea,” he lightly mocked. It wasn't a bad idea, per se, and perhaps the wings were a representation of the angel's strength. But there was one glaring flaw. “Yet, it's like the old story goes... who will bell the cat?”

Azimuth cocked his head. “She looks more like a duck to me.”

Sheesh, why did Gladstone hang out with these morons? “What I mean is, if she's that powerful, obviously you can't get anywhere near her without being destroyed. You wouldn't even be able to pluck one feather off her before she used her magic on you, and poof, you're gone.” He snapped his fingers, and enjoyed the sight of the two elder demons wincing. However, the more he explained it, the more strength it gave to his own ideas. Yes, the angel might be the right thing he needed all along. “However... what was that you were saying earlier, Sirena? That I can get people to do what I want with one look?”

Sirena gawked, her eyes widening. “You're not honestly suggesting...?”

“Oh, but I am.” Gladstone stopped walking, holding up one finger. “How hard can it be to win over an angel? I'll just butter her up like a hot meal, and she'll melt in my hands. All those snobby angels just want someone to remind them how pretty and perfect they are. It'll be easy. I can get you those feathers, I'll let you have every single one...” He then held out his hand. “And in return, you two give half your own power.”

“Half!” Azimuth balked, staggering backwards. “Are you insane? I'd never give up that much!”

Sirena clicked her tongue, strumming her fingers on her arm. “Hmmm... if we did get stronger because of those feathers... giving up half our power may seem like nothing in the end. Assuming you can make her hand them over.”

Gladstone kept on his winning smile that had won over many a mortal heart. If ultimately the feathers were nothing _but_ feathers, he still won. As long as he worded the deal perfectly, they'd still have to hand it over, because a contract with a demon was binding, no matter who it was to. He would get a lucky life, and finally be the superior being he'd always known he was. “Do we have a deal?”

Sirena and Azimuth exchanged uneasy glances, but eventually their greed won out. They both held Gladstone's hand – red rings emitted from their hands, symbolizing the contract bound between the three of them. It only lasted a couple of seconds, and when it was done, Gladstone turned around, smoothing down his green jacket. “A pleasure doing business with you.”

~*~

The demon was cleverer than most would give him credit for. He hunted down the black-feathered angel, memorizing her daily walks to find when she would be alone. Yet to his surprise, he learned she was often alone – the other angels were shunning her all but in name. She continued to try and help them, even though time and time again she was turned away for the mere crime of existing. The demon felt he had an easy target, and with greatest confidence, made his move.

~*~

“Hellooo, gorgeous.”

Magica had been walking a smooth path in the grass, her eyes on the mirror in her hands when the sudden noise disrupted her thoughts. She glanced to the side, and saw a well-dressed demon leaning on a tree, his blonde hair shining in the sunlight, as dapper as any true gentleman. He couldn't hide the shape of his eyes or the look of his hands, but he knew his handsomeness would be a good distraction, as it had been to all the other humans he tricked in his life. He held a bouquet of roses in his hand, fondly rubbing one of the petals between his fingertips as he spoke.

“Forgive me for my impertinence,” he said as he sniffed his own present, “but the moment I saw you, I couldn't control myself. Your beauty has captured my soul completely. From this day hence, I belong to you and you alone. I know these flowers pale in comparison to your alluring features, but I ask you on humble grounds to accept this small token of my affection.” He held out the bouquet...

… to no one. He blinked, blinked again, and saw that Magica had kept on walking, face back in the mirror. Having never been snubbed before, Gladstone was unfamiliar with what had just happened to him, and needed a faint moment to process it. Once he collected his senses, he jogged after her. “Hey! Did you hear a word I said?”

“Leave me be,” Magica said, not sparing him a further look. “I have no times for tricks from toddlers.”

Gladstone stared in slack-jawed stupidity. “Did you just... _insult_ me? Angels aren't supposed to insult people! You're supposed to be all... sweet and goody-goody and giggly!” He went after her again, trying to touch her shoulder. “Listen, let's try this again. Your beauty has captured-”

_THWAP!_

Angels weren't supposed to insult people, but it seemed they could, and now Gladstone knew they could also send people flying with a mere smack of their wings. A sensible man would have given up at this point, but Gladstone's pride had been so roughly beaten up that he couldn't stand it.

The next day, he offered her a box full of gorgeous jewelry that reflected the glow of her skin, and she threw the box right at his face. The day after that, he composed a symphony of poetry to describe her every movement, and she plugged her ears. The day after that, he played ill, laying on the ground, moaning in agony that if he could not receive a kiss from her, he'd surely perish, and she casually stepped over his supposed corpse.

With each passing failure his stubbornness grew. It became less about earning the luck he desired and more about making that woman submit to his glamour. Every day she was more focused on her beauty than his – why else would she be constantly staring at her mirror? She had to be the snobbiest angel that ever existed! His anger and hatred for her bubbled hotter – he didn't ask to be born a demon, she didn't choose to become an angel, so why did she get to feel as if she was better than he was? The irony of his own superior feeling was lost on him.

Things came to a head when on her route, he decided to go for a different routine – hanging upside down from a tree branch as she made her way through the forest where he typically took his naps. “Fair day, my sweetest dove! My heart is full now, seeing your grace.”

It was no different than the flood of other compliments he'd been given her, yet now she looked up at him, the lines under her eyes darker than usual. “Is that all?”

“Is what all?”

“Do you have anything else to say about me except my looks?”

“... What else is there?”

Magica scowled, grabbing him by his hair and yanking him down to the ground. He fell with a heavy “Oof!”, before scrambling to his feet. “Hey!” He was quick to smooth his hair back down. “What was that for? What's so wrong with telling you that you're pretty? You must know it yourself, you spend all your time looking at your own reflection!”

“I do not,” she replied, and held up her mirror to show him that it was not in fact a mirror at all – because instead of a reflection, it showed two small human girls at a lake, one of them crying heavily, the other one struggling to console her. “I look at them. I look for those who need my help.”

“What for?” Gladstone said with a heavy snort. “I've seen the way they treat you. You help them out, and what do you get in return? They scream at you, they mock you, they run away, all because of your wings.”

“So you don't think _those_ are pretty,” she snorted right back, and resumed her walk. “Just as well. You have the face of a rat.”

This time Gladstone followed her and refused to leave. “This rat face has won over plenty! Who can you win over? Are you going to help those girls? They won't thank you, I know it.”

“I don't need gratitude. I don't think you'll ever understand.”

Gladstone followed her all the way to the lake, and just as he thought, the girls cowered in fear at the black-feathered angel. But Magica still persisted, kneeling down to their level, and gently asking them the reason for their tears. The younger of the girls said her mother drowned in the lake, and missed her terribly, could the angel bring her back? No, that was beyond her power. But she could offer a warm embrace, and a promise that the mother was always watching her children, and that love was something that did not die with the body.

The girls didn't thank her. Yet Magica was pleased when they began to smile.

~*~

The demon continued trying to woo her over, now following her as she helped the humans. He never interfered, never tried to sway those mortals to his side, and only watched as she lent her help. He rarely saw her use her magic – she preferred to let words heal wounds, for the humans to think for themselves. She never got anything out of it, no praise for her good deeds or rewards of gold. So why was she so happy whenever she did manage to help someone? The demon could not understand. He thought if he continued to watch her help, he could comprehend the joy she got out of it.

~*~

“I don't know what to do,” the young lady wept, the rain getting stronger. Magica held up her wing to try and shield the human from the water as best she could. “I don't want to marry that man, but he's the head of the village. He won't listen to my parents. I'll never love him, I can't.”

Magica frowned, as this was a hard problem to solve. “Some men can't be reasoned with,” she said with a sigh, one arm always tucked around her mirror. “But you must keep your head held high and fight on. Otherwise, you will always lose.”

Gladstone looked back and forth between the women. Typically he'd stand there and watch Magica do all the work, but that woman's sobs were getting on his nerves. Even if Magica was going to be proven right, this woman would never thank her for it. Why bother? “If you ask me,” he said suddenly, “He's the one who should feel like he's losing.”

“Nobody asked you,” Magica growled.

The woman looked at him. “Huh?”

“He wants a wife, and a pretty one, but he doesn't know anything else about you, right?” Gladstone wagged a finger. “Simple – live with him for one day, and be the worst possible wife on the planet. Burn his food, destroy his clothing, make it clear he'll never know a moment's peace. But! Do it all with a smile.” He flashed his own winning grin, showing how it was done. “So he thinks you're trying your best to be a good wife. You'll be kicked out before sunset.”

“That's...” Magica started, and then pouted, miffed because... “not the worst idea I've ever heard.”

The woman appeared to agree, her tears coming to a stop. “It might! It really might! I'll make myself completely undesirable! Why, I'll even stop bathing and wear my worst dress!” Pleased at her upcoming freedom, she flounced inside to tell her parents the plan.

Gladstone grinned at Magica, scooting over to her side. “That's one for me, and zero for you, darling.”

He expected Magica to blow up in jealous anger, and for a few small seconds, her expression said exactly that. But just as quickly it softened into something unfamiliar, and for once when she spoke to him, her voice was smooth instead of volatile. “Thank you.”

It was quite amazing the number of things happening in Gladstone's heart – like Magica, he'd never been thanked before either. Having never received any on her end, she had to know how powerful it was to give it away. He felt floored, like his chest was caving in. No victory over any other demon, angel, or mortal had ever made him feel so... so... what was the word?

… Grateful?

Magica walked on, not caring about the rain that slicked her and feathers, as it was time to help other souls in need. Gladstone watched on, touching his heart, feeling it beat faster.

~*~

From then on, the demon did more than observe the humans that the angel helped – he helped as well. Not all of his advice was useful, and not all of the times it worked, but he found himself wanting to be thanked again. It had felt so nice the first time that he wanted it more. The more he worked, the more he realized he didn't want thanks from the humans – he wanted thanks from her.

~*~

“Don't you say a word, rat face.” Magica hissed as she tried to fit through the small doorway, her large wings making it an obstacle. Even folding them in as tightly as she could still made her wobble on the doorframe. She didn't even have to look at Gladstone to know he was sporting a smirk.

He stood outside, watching with restrained laughter as she tried to push her way inside. “Who would have known that the answer between the war of our species was in tight spaces? One small room could have us take over the world.”

“Shut up or I'll kick you.”

Another chuckle escaped him, and he approached her from behind. “If you promise not to kick me, I could try to help push you in.”

She debated it before groaning. “... Very well. But be careful, they're sensitive.”

Gladstone, gently as someone like he could make it, placed his hands on her wings and slowly began to push inward. They were the softest things he'd ever felt in his life. Dare say, he would have loved to take a nap on them, and enjoyed that mental image. “Why so? Are they the source of your power?”

She glanced at him as if he'd grown a second head. “Are you daft? Of course not. They're just wings.”

Wouldn't Azimuth and Sirena be disappointed – funny how he hadn't thought of them or the bet in weeks, and shook his head to forget them once more. “I guess I was just wondering why they're black. All the other angels I've seen have white wings.”

“It's rare, not impossible. I just have a... defect, I guess you could say.” Once inside, she stretched out her aching wings before folding them up again.

Defect? He didn't like that word. It didn't suit her, as if her wings were a mistake, as if she was a mistake. His combative nature was driven up again. “They're pretty.”

“Oh, don't start that nonsense again.”

“They are! They're like... the wings of... of...” He tried to think of a creature with similar wings and similar beauty, and only one came to mind. “A raven.”

She stopped, looking at him, and then at her wings. No one had ever complimented her wings before, and eventually she had begun to dislike them herself. Gladstone could see the warmth such words gave her, and it made that weird feeling in his chest expand. He wanted to do it again, over and over and over. “Ravens are beautiful creatures, aren't they? Surely you've seen them.”

Magica's eyes met the floor, and her voice became quiet. She tucked some hair over her shoulder, and – and – and there it was. A smile. A real, genuine, one of a kind smile, and Gladstone never wanted to blink should he miss a moment of its existence. It didn't erase the lines on her face or the hardness of her eyes, yet he realized he didn't want those to go away. They were all a part of her. “They are... they are pretty birds.”

Decidedly bashful, she was swift to turn her head away so she could focus on the reason they came. “H-Hurry up. We can't keep the mortals waiting.”

Gladstone smiled too.

~*~

It wasn't long before the demon forgot his bet, forgot the luck he wanted, and forgot everything his life was before he met the angel. He never knew he could be so happy with so little. Soon it became a daily sight for all those around them, the angel and the demon side by side on the same paths. Everyone believed one would betray the other in due time. All the while, the angel never once used her powers, and never once let go of her mirror.

It was a clear crystal night when both of those oddities got an answer.

~*~

There were legends that said demons grew stronger at night and angels grew weaker, but this was a false theory whipped up by mortals. Although Gladstone would have said that he strangely felt strong _and_ weak as Magica lay against his chest, the two of them watching the moon from an empty cliff. In days up to this, they didn't argue less, but they argued softer, and their conflicts ended in more smirks than insults. There were times they were perfectly content not saying a thing, with Gladstone smoothing down her black feathers with his fingers and Magica resting quietly on her side, eyes closed. They would have stayed like that for some time, but the mirror began to make noise within its images - Magica's eyes flew open, and she looked down into it to see what was the matter.

It was a false alarm – a child had stubbed their toe and was wailing as if it was the end of the world. Magica sighed in relief, and Gladstone chuckled quietly. “Sheesh, how do you angels get any rest, if you're constantly on the lookout for trouble?”

“I'm the only angel with a mirror like this,” she answered. “The others just try to guess where people need help, and by then it might be too late. I didn't care for that, so I put all of my magic into this mirror.”

Gladstone nodded – but then stopped. Did he hear right? “ _All_ of your magic? Every single last drop?”

“All means all, rat face.” She poked his beak. “You've seen how angels and demons can behave with too much power. They act with reckless abandon, and don't care who they hurt so long as they get what they want and feel good about it. I never wanted to fall to temptation... so I put it all into my mirror.”

Gladstone sat there, dumbfounded at such a sacrifice. He couldn't imagine living without magic – it made him better than mortals. It was a cheat at life. Yet she decided to make her life more difficult, more challenging, just to help people? “Honestly, my dear, I don't think I'll ever understand you.” He wasn't sure that was such a bad thing, though. Learning about her had been fascinating.

Magica looked down at her mirror, and then began to stand up on the ground, with Gladstone following soon after. “You might... if you have this.” She placed the mirror into his hands – it was the first time he'd ever seen her let it go.

“W-what?” Gladstone fumbled with the mirror before clutching it to his chest like a sacred treasure. “What! What what what! This is... all of you, all of your magic! Why on earth on you giving it to me?”

“I'm not _giving_ it to you,” Magica said, folding her arms. “I'm _lending_ it. You will return it to me tomorrow at our usual path. If there's a single crack or smear, I will never, ever forgive you, no matter how many pretty things you say about my wings.”

Gladstone's arms felt very heavy, as if he was carrying bricks instead of a mirror. “But... why?”

“I want you to watch the mortals. Don't interfere, just... watch. Maybe then you'll understand why I do what I do.” Something like a smile played out on her face, but Gladstone couldn't be sure. A chill wind brushed by them, and she sighed, looking at the bright full moon. “Winter will be here soon... I enjoy winter. It's as if all the world has gone to sleep. But all things must come to an end... spring will come, and the snow will melt, and life will move on, as it always does. No angels, demons, or mortals can live forever... so with the time we have here... we must think of what we can do with it. This winter... it will be nice, not to be alone.” Her cheeks were pink, and then, not wanting to embarrass herself any further, she quickly walked away.

Gladstone slowly sat back down, looking at the mirror. The boy who had stubbed his toe was being consoled by his big brother, who played games with him until the pain went away. What did Magica want him to learn from this? That there were people who would help one another without expecting a reward? How silly – the brother's reward was to no longer hear that bothersome crying. Yet even that bite felt dull, as if that answer was an excuse. The brothers were then being lightly chided by their mother, it was time to go bed. She tucked them in, kissed their foreheads, and sang a sweet lullaby to lull them to sleep.

All around the world, Gladstone watched families and friends and lovers ending their days, putting away their tools, finishing their chores, and making plans for the next sunrise. Some he was able to recognize as Magica had helped them before, in small and big ways, and they never mentioned her, never gave thanks. She deserved thanks, she deserved... she deserved everything. He wanted to cup her face and tell her that she was a disgustingly good person, the sort that made the world a kinder place to live, and why did he want to tell her that? Why did he want to hold her hand as they walked while they remained quiet? Why did he want all the other angels to treat her better? He would get nothing out of her happiness.

Except... her happiness. Seeing her happy made him happy.

“Oh.” He exhaled slowly, having come to the conclusion in a way Magica herself probably didn't expect. “That's it.”

~*~

As the demon continued to watch the humans all throughout the night, he never knew he himself was being watched. His friends hadn't forgot the bargain they made, and were impatiently waiting out for him to make his end of the deal. However, with the way things were, they saw an opening.

~*~

Early the next morning, Gladstone whistled a merry tune as he walked down the familiar path he and Magica took routinely every day now. It was the same path he had first pestered her on weeks ago, with trees planted along the side that seemed to become smaller and smaller the further away you walked. He proudly held the mirror to his chest – see, not one scratch, not one smudge! Let's see her complain about that! He couldn't wait to tell her the things he'd seen, and thought up a few compliments that would make her fluster in an adorable fashion.

But... there was something odd about today. He'd been walking for quite some time, yet hadn't seen her. She was supposed to show up by now. Had she decided to sleep in, now that her mirror wasn't telling her where to go? He walked a little faster, a dreadful feeling crawling up the back of his neck, as if he'd forgotten something dangerous.

Then he heard screaming.

In days past, Gladstone would have ignored such a noise, figuring some worthless mortal was wasting his time. But now he ran faster towards the sound, actually concerned that a complete stranger was in pain – and then, to his horror, he realized who was screaming.

There in the dirt lay Magica, and there were was Azimuth and Sirena, the two of them holding her down with their legs as their claw-like nails tore apart her back in a morbid effort to take away all her feathers. The two of them cackled as they snapped the bones in her wings, ripping apart muscle and tendon to get every single last feather out. They thought perhaps if they ate the feathers, they'd gain the angel's magic, so they stuffed their faces with handfuls. Magica's face was drenched in tears and agony, unable to move, her throat raw from screams.

Gladstone dropped the mirror, and when it fell to the ground it now had a single circular crack near the edge. “STOP IT!” he yelled in fear and anger, rushing towards the demons with his own claws out, ready to beat them both if need be. “LEAVE HER ALONE! DON'T YOU TOUCH HER!” But just as he got close enough, red rings of magic blocked his body, the contract in full power.

_I can get you those feathers, I'll let you have every single one._

The deal had been made – he couldn't break it. “No! NOOO! PLEASE, NO!” He banged his fists uselessly against the rings that wouldn't budge, pleading with his so-called friends, begging them to stop, but they ignored his cries and continued to destroy her beautiful black wings. He slid to his knees, hot tears rolling down his cheeks, and he saw Magica eventually could no longer scream, could no longer cry. She just lay there in anguish, her eyes growing dull, and Gladstone swore he could see every last bit of good in her dying as he saw his reflection in her eyes.

It felt as if an eternity passed before the two demons had finally gotten every single last feather, and the wounds of broken bone and torn flesh were now tossed aside, leaving Magica's back a bloody, disfigured abomination. The red rings began to fade, now that the contract was fulfilled. Azimuth rose to his feet, wiggling his fingertips. “Hmmm... I don't feel any more powerful.”

“Maybe it takes time to digest,” Sirena suggested, walking over to Gladstone's side. He lay frozen in a state of misery, unable to take his eyes off the still Magica. “I don't know what you were hollering about – can't say that I care – but a deal's a deal. Half of mine, half of Azimuth's.”

“Half our power for her wings,” Azimuth chimed in, his hand on Gladstone's left shoulder, Sirena's on the right. “Aren't you one lucky fellow!” All three of them glowed a sick, dark red, as the magic was transferred from two bodies to one. Gladstone didn't respond or react. All he could see was Magica. All he could feel was Magica.

With the transfer over, Sirena kicked her heels, beginning to walk away. “I bet the power will come any minute now! We'll be able to take down any angels in our way!”

“Maybe it's already working, we handled that one really easily.” Azimuth said as he walked with her – not knowing, as Gladstone realized, that with all the magic in her mirror, Magica had no way to defend herself. The demons laughed at their victory, their wicked cackles echoing in the trees long after they left.

Gladstone choked. He felt ill. Magica. His Magica. She lay there without saying a word, not even twitching, her face unreadable. He tried to reach to her, to touch her hair, and she flinched as if she'd been struck. “No, No, I... I'm sorry, I... y-your mirror! Here, I'll get you your mirror!” Maybe if she took her magic out of it, she could heal herself. If she couldn't, maybe his strengthened magic could do the trick. Yet even as he scrambled to his feet to collect the broken mirror, he knew that nothing would heal the deeper wound – why hadn't he warned her? Why hadn't he told Azimuth and Sirena he didn't want to do it anymore? Why had he even done it all in the first place? For luck? To feel better about himself?

Magica slowly, slowly, slowly began to rise to her knees, her entire body trembling. Gladstone returned to her, kneeling down, offering the mirror, his sobs making it difficult to speak. “I-I know it's cracked, I'm sorry – I'm so sorry – Magica, I didn't mean – _this wasn't supposed to happen!_ ”

Magica snatched the mirror from his hands, and for the first time, perhaps due to that accidental crack, she saw her own reflection staring back at her. In that moment, she saw all her pain staring back at her, all her mistakes, and what trusting Gladstone - what _loving_ Gladstone - had done to her. She raised the mirror – and then smashed it to the ground.

And then smashed it again.  
And again.  
And again.

Gladstone cried out, trying to understand what she was doing, but she was done listening. There were endless shards on the ground, and she dropped the mirror to pick up the largest one, holding it in her hands – and stabbed herself in the chest.

She howled, and the wind picked up in an icy chill, faster all around them – the ground underneath their bodies turned into solid ice, and the ground rumbled, hard snow began to fall from the sky, and the wind took the shards and scattered them to the world. Through all this, Magica pressed the shard deeper and deeper inside of her, even as Gladstone pleaded for her to stop.

“I WILL SAVE THE WORLD FROM THIS TORMENT!” she shrieked, louder than the winds, louder than the storm, louder than anyone who could stop her. “I WILL NEVER LET ANYONE HURT THIS WAY AGAIN! FROM HENCEFORTH... _THERE WILL NEVER BE LOVE AGAIN!_ ”

With this final cry, gigantic walls of ice began to rise from the ground, encasing the entire forest, creating a castle of ice that reflected nothing and no one. The trees around began to die in the frost, and the cold spread throughout the world. Gladstone, who had barely registered what her declaration meant to him or to anyone, tried to stay, tried to pound on the ice, tried to apologize over and over, but he would not be heard. His own grief tore at his soul, hating his very being and knowing that death would be too swift a mercy for him.

In his suffering, he could only think of how he deserved to be punished for what he had done, and what he had failed to do. He covered his face with his hands, and with every single last burst of magic in his body, transformed his entire body into a pathetic, ugly, helpless bird, so he could never use his magic again. He would live on forever with his sin, never belonging to any world – angel, demon, or mortal.

He flew away, and luck was on his side, for the wind let him sail through the sky.

~*~

The angel spread her cold and her rule throughout the world. Now with her as the most powerful threat, the war between the angels and demons seemed pathetic, and those that did not die in conflict with one another over her shards went into hiding. In her goal to help every creature, she forbade love. To that end, her mirror would help her gain soldiers for her cause, those that once fought against her crusade. They would endure the same shards as she.

One shard to freeze their minds. To bind them to the cold, and keep them in constant pain.

Two shards to freeze their hearts. To eliminate their memories, and confirm their obedience.

Three shards to freeze their souls. To take their very life, and end the mortal coil.

And since then, the Snow Queen's rule has been firmly set, and no one has ever been able to defeat her.

And the demon forever lives with selling his lover for luck.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the true story of the Snow Queen fresh in Minnie's mind, she takes steps to resume her quest - with a new friend at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> This wasn't an easy chapter to write, if only because I knew what I was doing before this one, and on the next one, but didn't quite plan on this one? Ah well. 
> 
> We should be done in a chapter or two! The final showdown is upon us!

Ratface had finished his tale, his eyes on the faint glimmer of moonlight that was slowly leaving the caravan. He was reluctant to turn around and see their faces, although he could already hear the stronger reactions – Daisy was openly wailing into her hands, always far too emotional in every instance, and Goofy was sniffling in big heaps. Donald was solemnly facing away, no tears in his eyes but sadness reflected in them all the same. Ratface did finally turn around to see how Minnie was and he wasn't sure what to expect.

Minnie had cried, but not in the blubbering fashion of Daisy and Goofy. Single lines streaked her cheeks, and she was quiet, her eyes on the icy blue lines in her palms. She felt as if she was expected to say something, and there were many things on her mind, of grief and sorrow and loss... but.

 _But_. Something about that story was off. She didn't doubt its authenticity, or the sincerity of Ratface's true objectives. Yet there was a feeling that the ending wasn't entirely true. Still, she didn't think it was her place to question it. Perhaps it was something to be answered when they confronted the Snow Queen, although how they were to do so while in these cages was another mystery. Minnie wiped her cheeks, and then scooted closer to the front of the cage to reach out and gently stroke Ratface's head.

It was Daisy, unsurprisingly, that broke the silence. “Oh, Ratface!” She wept, drenching her gloves in tears. “How could you do such a thing? We must correct this injustice, we simply must!”

“Assuming any of this is true,” Donald swiftly interrupted, moving to face his friends. “If she didn't listen to him then, I doubt she'll listen now. She might not even remember him, if those shards did the trick. We'll have to find another way to stop her.”

Goofy raised his head, only now catching on to a thing or two. “Stop her? Whaddya mean?”

Minnie saw no reason to lie. “Well... when you stopped us-”

“Kidnapped us,” Ratface muttered.

“We were actually on our way to the Snow Queen. I'm going to rescue my friend.”

“And we're going to put an end to her reign!” Daisy added on with vigor, clenching her fists and banging them to her chest. “And now, a new mission! We will reunite the fair lovers and restore her heart!”

“The _heck_ we will!” Donald snapped. “Listen, I'm all for stopping the icy terror, but you've got icicles for brains if you think something like true love will save the day.”

Goofy cocked his head to the side. “Then how do you plan on stoppin' her?”

He was answered with defeated silence. Minnie shrugged. “We haven't really figured out that part of the plan yet.”

“I'm there to guide you,” Ratface began to climb onto Minnie's cage. “Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not going to beg her forgiveness. I don't deserve it. The loud one is right, the more shards in you, the more you forget. It's why your boy wonder didn't even hesitate in front of you, pretty girl.”

There it was again, Minnie thought, the feeling that something wasn't right about the shards. “I still must try. We must all try, for we have no choice.” With that settled, she faced Goofy, hands on her lap and a strong determination burning inside her. “Goofy, my friend was taken away by the Snow Queen. I've traveled many a mile to see him freed, and I will not stop until he is home where he belongs. Is there any way you can find it in your heart to let us go?”

Goofy's fingers tapped on his arms, a clear battle waging in his mind. “Oooh.. I dunno...Ma would be awfully mad if I did. Stoppin' the Snow Queen is really important too, though...my animal friends are havin' a hard time findin' more food.” He furrowed his brows, tilting his head to the left, then to the right, and back and forth, weighing each option.

“I'll settle this!” Daisy announced, slapping her hands to the metal bars. “Set Sir Donald and Minnie free, and I'll stay! I'm the one your mother wants, let them continue on with their quest!”

Donald jerked his head around. “What?! You can't possibly expect me to leave you behind! You're the princess, our people need you! Goofy, be a man, let me stay and let the girls go! That way, you'll have someone, at least.”

“But what about your dream of being a guardsman?” Minnie asked, ignoring all the eyerolling Ratface was doing. “And your home needs you too, as does Daisy... you two are stronger and wiser than I am, so you should be the ones set free, and I'll stay here until I can find my own way out.”

“Absolutely not! Darling Minnie, you must take Sir Donald and go!”  
“Not happening, Daisy! You girls go, and I will stay!”  
“But it really makes the most sense if I stay and you two go...”

This went on for some time, perplexing Goofy and annoying Ratface to no end. Once it was clear none of them were going to be satisfied, Goofy waited for a pause in breath to interject. “Gee, you all must be really good friends. How long have you known each other?”

Minnie glanced over. “Oh, well... Donald and Daisy have known each other for... a month? And I've known them for...” She counted on her fingers. “A day or two?”

Now that made Goofy almost fall over in shock. “That's it?!” he asked, his eyes wide in surprise. “Ya'll barely know each other, but yer willin' to stay here so the other ones can go?” He opened and closed his hands again and again, struggling to articulate himself with his limited vocabulary. “But... but why? Why would you ever do somethin' like that? Ma and my brothers, we known each other our whole lives, and they'd stick a knife in each other just to get the last plate at dinner! Why would you help each other out like this?”

As usual, Minnie put it best, because to her it was the simplest answer. “Why not?”

Those two words struck a blow so deep to Goofy's heart he almost forgot how to breathe. “Because... because...” He stumbled over the word, looking out at the tattered tent flap. His brothers and mother were now debating about the cost of the hostages, how high the royals would surely be willing to pay for Daisy's return, and the devious idea of sending a lock of hair – or worse – to them as proof of her existence. Minnie doubted they'd be believed if they explained the royals had been snatched away some time ago, and there was a prick of fear for her friend's safety.

After a beat, Goofy cautiously reached out to the flap and pushed it open, sticking his head out. “Ma?”

His mother stood by the campfire, surrounded by her kin. The reindeer huddled all together for warmth. Occasionally one of the Beagles would toss their empty kitchenware over their shoulder, accidentally hitting the reindeer with it but not caring about the result. In fact, as far as Minnie could guess, given the worn down fur coats and scars along the reindeer's legs, these animals were only cared about by Goofy. “What is it?” Ma growled.

“If you and I was held hostage,” Goofy asked, “Would you trade your life for mine?”

The question made the camp momentarily silent, all startled eyes on him. Ma squinted, and then lobbed her full bowl of soup at Goofy's head. “Don't bother me with stupid questions, boy! I'm trying to make a plan here!” The hard bowl knocked Goofy backwards and his face became splattered with soup. His brothers howled with laughter.

“I don't care for that woman,” Daisy muttered.

Goofy laid there for a few seconds before getting up and wiping off the soup with his hands. “Least it wasn't hot this time. Guess that's what I deserve.”

Minnie's hands touched the bars of her cage, staring as she saw streaks of meat fall down Goofy's face. He deserved to be struck for asking a question? “No,” she said suddenly, a bizarre hotness bubbling in her chest. “No, you did not deserve that.”

“Aw, it's all right.” Goofy sat up straight with a tired smile. “We got plenty of soup.”

“No,” Minnie said again, that hotness reaching up to her throat, a new emotion getting stronger with every passing second. “No, it's not all right. None of this is all right. Her capturing us was not all right. Her holding us hostage is not all right. Her hurting you is not all right.” Her hands gripped the bars stronger, and she found she had no control over the fire that was entering her head and her face. “Nothing about this is all right.”

Donald and Daisy exchanged a curious look, and then Daisy wiggled a finger at Ratface. “Dear... have you ever seen darling Minnie angry before?”

Ratface opened his mouth, and then closed it, because no, no he hadn't. Not even when it was rightly justified.

“The Snow Queen taking people away is not all right,” Minnie kept going, oblivious to how loud she was getting. “The endless winter is not all right. Ratface eternally punishing himself, Daisy afraid to be with Donald for his own safety, Donald risking his neck without any faith-”

The blue veins along Minnie's arms began to glow, and the bars in her hands began to grow colder, colder, colder - 

“Having to sit here in this cage while Mickey is trapped is not all right! Mama and Papa starving to make sure I'm fed is not all right! Burning the books wasn't all right! And your mother... your mother...”

_Papa it's so cold I'm scared please let me in I'll be good Papa please -_

“YOUR MOTHER IS _NOT ALL RIGHT!_ ”

The metal bars in Minnie's hands shattered, having grown so cold they could no longer hold shape. Minnie's rant stopped, stunned at what she had achieved, and only now did she see the open-mouthed incredulous expressions of those around her. Donald had scooted back further in his cage, Goofy picked up one of the broken pieces, and Ratface had begun to shake. Daisy, on other hand, applauded. “Bravo, my dearest! Look at you go!”

“That's not a good thing, you dummy dove!” Ratface slapped Daisy's cage with his wing. He had every right to be worried – as a result of Minnie's outburst, her black fur now had shades of white mixed in, streaking her body and making her ever closer to death. “At this rate, she'll become frozen from head to toe before we ever get near the Snow Queen!”

Minnie looked at the damage she had caused, the new anger in her body not as strong as it had been a minute before, but still lingering in dangerous waves. This was something to be afraid of – but it wouldn't help in the long run to let fear stop her. She crawled out of the cage, stood up, and brushed down her dress. “Then I must continue on to the Snow Queen,” she said, “But not without Donald and Daisy.” She didn't know how to control whatever she had just done, and if she tried, perhaps Ratface was right and her journey would end before she saw it through. To that end, she believed there was only one thing she could do.

She walked out of the caravan.

“Minnie!” Donald, Daisy, and Ratface cried out in unison, with Goofy frantically following after.

She hopped down to the ground, and then marched up right up to Ma, ignoring all the confused looks from the Beagles, grabbing her by the hem of her dress to get her attention. “Give me the keys to the cages,” and then, in consideration, added, “Please.”

Ma smacked Minnie's hand away – momentarily frightened by how cold it was – and began to bark. “How did you get out? … Goofy! You little runt, I'll tan your hide so hard-”

“I let myself out,” Minnie said. “Goofy didn't do anything. And you're a horrible mother for hurting your son.”

No one had ever talked back to Ma Beagle before, so none of the Beagles were sure how to handle it when it happened. Ma sputtered, before regaining control. “Hostages should mind their own business! Hurting that fool is the only way to protect him! He knows that, don't you, Goofy?”

Goofy, who was taller than any of them, shrunk under her voice, hands knotted together. “Yes, Ma. You can't be nice to me, or the Snow Queen will come take you away.”

“See?” Ma crossed her arms, snorting in superiority. “We're just trying to survive under the Snow Queen's rule. As long as we don't show affection, we aren't affected. Even someone as dumb and slow as Goofy knows that.”

Minnie didn't back down or show any signs she would in the future. “But Goofy is nice to you.”

“So what?”

“Goofy is nice to you,” Minnie repeated, “And nice to his brothers, and nice to the animals, and he's even been nice to us. But he's not in any danger from the Snow Queen, now, is he? If he was, wouldn't you tell him to stop being nice? Especially to you? After all, if niceness is the way to show love, then Goofy must love everyone a lot, including you.”

Ratface flew out of the caravan, coming to sit on Minnie's shoulder. “I don't know what you're planning, pretty girl,” he whispered to her ear. “But I can't say I don't like it.”

Goofy scratched his head, the full power of Minnie's statements settling in. “Huh... gee, Ma, she's kind of got a point about all this...”

“No, she doesn't!” Ma hissed, signaling to her stronger sons to stand up. “What does she know? Some blue and white freak, an ugly girl like that would never know what love is!”

“I HEARD THAT, YOU WRETCHED MATRIARCH!” Daisy screeched from within the caravan. “You call her ugly again and I'll give you an ugly bruising, that's what I'll do!”

“Give 'em trouble, Minnie!” Donald called out, figuring that if they were going to end it here, they may as well go down fighting. “If she's a freak, then we're all freaks, and proud of it!”

“You can be proud of being a freak?” Goofy asked, thrown off once more. “Ma calls me a freak plenty, 'cause I can talk to animals, I didn't know that was something you could be proud of.”

“There isn't anything to be proud of!” Ma roared, demanding to be in control. “All of you knock it off, right now!” If they weren't going to listen to her, she'd have to take her favorite route – violence. She tried to snatch Minnie's arm – and then released it immediately. “Yikes! Y-You're colder than ice!”

Minnie wasn't a fan of violence herself and didn't want to resort to it in order to see her friends freed. But as an idea popped up in her head, she realized she didn't have any issue with a few threats. “Of course I am. I have a shard of the Snow Queen inside of me. Like all her soldiers do. Why, you could say I might be as powerful as she is.”

You could, but it would be a lie. Ratface smirked, puffing out his chest in a bit of pride. “My, my, pretty girl, where did you learn such bluffing?” he said under his breath.

The Beagle brothers began to scramble up to their feet, some hiding behind their bigger siblings, the majority of them staying away from Ma, since she had “caused the problem”. Ma herself staggered backwards, but pride and stubbornness kept her going. “You were captured awfully easily for someone who thinks they're as powerful as that wacky witch! Goofy, do something!”

Goofy shrugged helplessly. “Like what?”

“You will leave Goofy alone,” Minnie warned, taking a step forward and causing Ma to step backward. “And you will give me the keys. Or else... or else I'll take you all away to the Snow Queen, and you will never be seen again.” They didn't have to know Minnie wasn't working for the Snow Queen.

“Ma!” One of the Beagles cried out in fear. “What do we do?!”  
“No one's ever escaped from the Snow Queen before!”  
“I don't wanna be a Popsicle! … Mmm, Popsicle...”

Ma's big legs shook, but she spotted a helpful tool out of the corner of her eye. She grabbed one of the burning sticks from the fire and held it out in front of her – ice melted, didn't it? So maybe a person of ice would too. “Back off, kid! I'll make you into a puddle! You don't work for the Queen, I know it!”

Goofy began to walk forward, hands out. “Ma, be careful! You could hurt yourself!”

“Shut up, Goofy! I'll melt you too if you don't shut your yap! I know for a fact she doesn't have any power here!”

Minnie looked at Ratface, who had his eyes on the keys on Ma's belt. “Oh? And how do you know this?”

“Haven't we been through it already? The Snow Queen sends her soldiers out to take folks who love one another! And I don't hold one single speck of love for this stupid freak! So there's no way we're in any danger from the Snow Queen!”

Goofy stopped in place, his entire body slowly shifting downward like a deflating balloon. “Ma...?”

“I said shut up! Now make yourself useful for once and put this kid in a new cage! Do it before I add you to the campfire!” Since Ma had set things right, her other sons began to come out of their hiding places, relieved that Minnie was harmless compared to their heartless mother. Goofy looked at her, and the longer he delayed doing anything at all, the more hurtful insults she spewed at him. It was strange how this did not cause him as much pain as he expected. He thought of the people in the cages, who had been nicer to him in ten minutes than anyone in his family had his entire life.

This was not exactly a difficult decision to make.

Goofy turned around and stuck his head in the caravan. “Miss princess lady? If I get you guys out of here, can I come stay in your kingdom?”

“I'll give you a whole duke title with the works if you get us out of here!”

“Aw, gee. Ain't ever been a duke before.”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!” Ma screeched, and threw the fiery stick right at her son. Ratface took to the air, snatching it in his beak and swooped over the heads of the brothers, lighting many heads of hair aflame. They screamed and flailed, trying to smack each other in other to take out the fire, and in the midst of all that confusion, Minnie snatched the keys from Ma's belt. She tossed them to Goofy, who calmly crawled back into the caravan to free the ducks.

“Stop this, all of you!” Ma demanded, watching her sons run all over the place like chickens with their heads cut off. In all this panic, the original campfire was being disturbed, the stones moving out of place and allowing the flames to begin spreading out onto the grass. The reindeer began to lift their heads, frightened and confused by all the chaos. Ma continued to demand order and got none in return. “SOMEONE LISTEN TO ME! I AM IN CHARGE OF THIS FAMILY! DO AS I SAY!” But things continued to unravel, and someone had to pay for it.

With a crazed snarl, Ma grabbed Minnie by the shoulders, this time ignoring how eerily cold the small girl was. “You, this is your fault! Turning my blood against me, making us look like fools – you're no longer a hostage! You're going to be dead, plain and simple!”

This did nothing, as Minnie stared right back at her, her blue eyes sharply returning every bit of intensity given. Ma was used to intimidating everyone, but she had finally encountered a person she couldn't threaten – someone who wasn't afraid of her and her family. By this point, Minnie had encountered far scarier things than an old woman who spat volatile warnings. “We're leaving,” she replied. “And you can leave us alone or you can try to stop us. But I will keep going. No matter what. You can cage me and beat me and hurt me but I will never stop trying. You're used to everyone giving up. You even give up yourself when it's too hard. But I'm not meant to be here. I will go.”

Shaking with anger and some bits of fear, Ma did the only think she could think of – she smacked Minnie right across the face.

Her cheek hurt – and it hurt Ma's hand to smack it – but Minnie simply turned her head to look back at her. “Is that all?”

Three little words broke Ma's spirit, and she fell onto her behind, mouth open without a single word leaving her lips. Minnie almost felt sorry for this woman, but not quite.

By this time, Goofy, Donald, and Daisy had gotten out of the caravan, and Ratface loyally returned to Minnie's shoulder. “I say we high-tail it out of here before we become broiled bluejays.”

“Hang on, I can't leave them behind,” Goofy said before heading to the reindeer. “Hey fellas. Wanna come with us? I don't think Ma and the rest of 'em are gunna treat ya'll too kindly when I'm gone.” Then, as a helpful afterthought, “Mind puttin' out the fire too?”

As if on command, all the reindeer stood up at once – and began to stomp forward, using their large hooves to kill the flames underneath their feet. Occasionally they wound up stepping on a Beagle hand or foot, although this didn't bother anyone's conscious. Donald was smart enough to remember the carriage and horses, and by the time the fire was completely dead, all the Beagles, save for Ma, were either burnt or broken. Minnie thought that, had Goofy ever asked in the first place, the reindeer might have done this ages ago and saved him a lot of grief. But perhaps Goofy knew this too, and held on to the thought of one day proving his innermost doubts wrong.

Donald sat on the carriage roof, the reins in his hands, and Daisy was more than happy to climb back inside. Minnie stayed out, watching Goofy, who was sharing one last exchange with his mother.

“You can't do this,” the broken woman said, pieces of ire still wedged in her throat. “I'm your Ma.”

“So you are,” Goofy acknowledged. “If you decide you want to be nice to me, I'll come back. But bein' nice is dangerous now, thanks to the Snow Queen. Maybe cause of her, you ain't ever learned how to be nice. Some folks got to learn it, others already know it. So I'm going with them.” With that said, he hoisted Minnie up in his arms, much to her surprise, and sat her atop the closest reindeer. He then climbed on behind her. “I hope you're nice sometime, Ma. At least to somebody.”

Ratface opened his beak, perhaps to say something rude, likely that Ma wouldn't change. Minnie clamped his beak shut with her fingers. “Maybe she will be. Shall we be on our way?”

The reindeer and the carriage took off together, leaving behind the broken Beagle bandits, with no one entirely sure of their future. Then again, it was an odd comfort to know that no one could be entirely sure of anyone's future - not even their quest to confront and stop the Snow Queen. They could hope, and do little more than that.

A part of Minnie was still angry – still sad, still afraid, still happy, all these newfound emotions weren't sure where to be placed. She remembered her overwhelming sadness when Mickey destroyed the necklace – and afterward she had gotten colder inside and out, hadn't she? Now it happened again with anger. What would happen if she felt that strongly once more?

The wind blew, and she barely felt it. Goofy put his arms around Minnie, both to keep her steady on the reindeer, and to uselessly warm her up with his embrace. She quietly thanked him for the attempt. Ratface kept his eyes ahead, and he was feeling something new as well, something he hadn't felt since he stood tall and proud as a full-fledged demon.

He felt hope.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the depths of the coldest winter, Minnie manages to find the one love that no ice could destroy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, big thanks to my amazing editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
> 
> I'll admit the ending is pretty lackluster, but ultimately I'm glad I gave this kind of story a try, and I hope you all enjoyed the very depressing ride. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented, and gave me such beautiful fan-art! I couldn't, and wouldn't, do this work without all of your love and support. Also big thanks to Modmad for inspiration behind one of the pairings, let's be real.
> 
> Lastly, I want to say that one of my editors, BlueShifted, will be temporarily stepping down. Send them a lot of your good thoughts and love, because they deserve it!

Minnie could no longer be sure about the truth of the weather, for her insides stayed cold no matter how roughly she rubbed her hands as she rode one of the reindeer with Goofy. Ratface stayed on her shoulder, cuddled up close only because he “felt an itch” that her ear was good to scratch, and nothing more, so he'd insist. Occasionally from within the carriage beside them Daisy would call out and ask if Minnie was all right. Minnie would lie and say yes she was, and Daisy would pretend to believe it since there was nothing she could do to fix it. As the hours piled on, so did the snow, starting lightly in front and then growing heavier as they journeyed forward.

They encountered pine trees that were heavy with white, and further still trees that had died a frozen, miserable death some ages ago. For a brief moment of time, Minnie wondered if somehow they had gone backwards and returned to her village, for the setting began to seem very familiar. The absence of plants and color, the dead quiet all around, and the snow that never relented... The way they traveled was not for anyone, it was as if it had been made to dissuade people from going any further. Goofy began to shiver, but he didn't tuck his arms around himself for warmth – he saved that for Minnie, wanting to do all he could to keep her steady on the reindeer.

Occasionally the wind blew, but not enough to blind their vision, which was their last saving grace. Donald was worried about the horses, but Goofy assured him that they wanted to see this through to the end, if only for the sake of their mistress – who whined about how cold she was.

“Who told you a fancy gown was suitable for travel?” Ratface huffed when Daisy complained yet again. “It's only going to get worse from here. If you want to back out, do it now.”

“You won't be rid of me, ruffian raven,” Daisy said after a not-so-elegant raspberry from the carriage window. “We shall reunite Minnie with Mickey, and free the land from eternal snow! I just wish I had packed along thicker gloves, is all.”

“Don't suppose anyone's thought of a plan about _how_ we're freein' the land?” Goofy asked as he trembled atop his reindeer. The herd stayed close together as possible, trying to group for warmth. “I'm stickin' with ya'll, but I still ain't sure how we can stop a lady that's been doin' this forever. How do we make her listen to us?”

Minnie had hoped by the time she got this far she'd have some idea of what to do, but there was still no great plan that came to mind. Saying so would only worry her new friend, so she kept it to herself. “We'll figure it out. As long as we keep trying, we'll find a way.” If only because they must, if only because there was no alternative. None of them could go back to the way they'd left things, be it a freezing village, a saddened kingdom, or a hurtful family. There was no option but to keep moving forward.

“May your determination keep you alive, pretty girl,” Ratface said rather solemnly, his eyes ahead, “because we're just about there.”

This got everyone's attention, and they all peered as best they could through the thick, falling snow. At first they couldn't see anything, and Donald would have given Ratface a good tug on his tailfeathers for the trick, but as they continued, they felt the land go down in a slope, and a shadow was descending upon them. Whatever was ahead was blocking out the sun more than the clouds ever could. There was a triangle shape in a misty form, but with each hoofbeat, it became clearer and more solid.

Rows and rows of icicles peppered what was once a lovely and quaint forest, now making it a hazardous place to traverse. The dirt and ground path was frozen solid, and there in the distance lay the landmark that sent a hard wave of fresh fear throughout the group – it was if a tidal wave had crashed up into the land and then had been frozen there completely, spikes and shards of ice sticking out everywhere, reaching up all the way into the heavens. It was disjointed, abrasive, and just looking at it was painful. This had been the creation of someone in unimaginable pain, someone who had done all they could to lock themselves away from the world.

Donald swallowed heavily. “I don't exactly see a front door we can knock on. How are we supposed to get inside?”

“I imagine she lets her soldiers in and out whenever she wants.” Daisy tapped her fan to her beak in thought. “But if she doesn't want us in, she's not letting us in.”

“And we'll be hard-pressed to find a way otherwise.” Ratface stood upright, on edge now that he was so close to what he'd been avoiding for ages. “A hundred human soldiers couldn't break down that ice.”

Perhaps this was true. Minnie looked at their surroundings, or more specifically the furry ones. “How about less than one hundred reindeer?”

Goofy clapped once. “Aw, that's a great idea! Reindeer are much stronger than people! You are some kinda genius, Minnie. Everybody ready?”

“No,” said Donald.  
“No,” said Daisy.  
“No,” said Ratface.  
Minnie didn't bother.

“SOUP'S ON!” Goofy stuck two fingers into his mouth and whistled a note so high that Minnie winced, and after that, every single reindeer began to stampede forward, horns out at the ready. Since this was to be a much bumpier ride, Goofy lifted Minnie into his arms and held her like a careful package, despite how painful it was due to her chill. Donald groaned, but after a tug on the reins, the horses raced on far in the back.

The first reindeer didn't make a crack, nor the second or third. But by the time the thirtieth reindeer and all its siblings crashed into the icy wall, not only did it crack, it was thoroughly and completely crushed like a thin ice cube in the palm of a hand. Inside, the reindeer continued on an icy road but began to slow down as it became clear that bunching up together would only lead to their doom.

Within the ice palace was a single stretch of pathway, and stepping off it meant dropping into a bottomless pit. There were hovering patches of ice with fresh snow that drifted back and forth like eerie stepping stones, and they floated up, down, left, right. The carriage pulled to a stop, and Donald gently helped Daisy down. At first she thought the walls were coated blue, but a startled blink revealed the truth – soldiers. Hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers lined the walls, waiting for orders, unfeeling, unthinking. Daisy dove into Donald's arms, frightened by the number, and Donald felt much the same, clutching her tightly to his chest. Goofy gulped audibly, taking his time to lower him and Minnie down off the reindeer, no longer shaking just from the cold.

“There,” Ratface said softly, and Minnie turned her head to look up ahead.

The pathway rose high with white stairs, leading to a grand throne where the Snow Queen sat, her dull eyes observing her guests. She didn't appear to be surprised by her visitors, but then it was difficult to imagine her with any emotion at all. Though she was far away, Minnie felt the terror that seized her when she first met the dreaded woman face to face back in her village. Her toes clenched up in her red shoes, the precious ones she'd gotten from Daisy, and she wanted to run away and abandon the mission. 

Instead, she walked forward, through all the reindeer. One by one, her friends followed, their steps echoing, the silence determined to drive them to madness. In turn, the Snow Queen rose from her seat, staff held ready in her fingers, and she began to descend the stairs. It all seemed very formal, like the heads of warring nations coming together for a talk of peace. Minnie kept her chin up, never looking away, only stopping when she reached the foot of the stairs. The Snow Queen stopped in the middle of the stairs, and the staring contest started anew.

Minnie took a deep breath, though it agonized her lungs. “My name is Minnie,” she began, “And these are my friends. Ratface, Daisy-”

“I know who you are,” the Snow Queen interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have been watching your useless journey.” As she spoke, Minnie glanced at Ratface, trying to read his reaction, as he stayed absolutely still, eyes wide. “I had thought you all knew my lessons well...but it appears you refuse to learn, and so must be punished.”

Daisy found her voice very easily. “I'm glad to have flunked your lessons! You took away all the light and love of our world, and we're here to get it back!” Donald tried to hold her back, but this was proving futile. “Return Mickey to Minnie at once! They deserve to be together!”

“If that is what you wish.” The Queen's grip on her staff tightened, and it began to emit a faint blue glow – and so did one of the soldiers from the walls. He jumped onto one of the floating ledges, jumped again, and indeed this was Mickey, weapon at the ready, and within seconds it became clear that he wasn't returning to Minnie for a happy reunion.

“Scatter!” Donald cried, unable to think of anything else. He grabbed Minnie by the wrist and jumped onto the nearest floating ice patch which proved quite slippery, and Ratface took to the air. Goofy stumbled backwards, and Mickey landed at the foot of the stairs, ready to start the chase anew – and then Daisy threw herself at the boy, arms around his neck, trying to tug him backwards.

“Mickey, you must wake up!” She pleaded – all those in the Golden Kingdom have been trained to fight the Queen's soldiers, and she hoped it would finally do some good. “Your true love came all the way to save you! Don't you remember?” Mickey wordlessly clenched Daisy's arm, and threw her off with one hard swing – Goofy held up his arms to catch her, and wound up bowling into the reindeer, who were doing all in their power not to fall off the path.

“He has two shards within,” the Queen said calmly, as Mickey ran ahead to catch up with Donald and Minnie. “His memories are gone, and there is no power that can restore them. Such is the fate that awaits you all.” More soldiers began to light up, signaling they were about to join the fray.

“Not good not good not good!” Donald yelped as he tried to keep his footing, and Minnie, on the floating ledge, seeing the other soldiers getting off the wall. Mickey landed hard on the same patch, causing the ledge to tilt his way. Donald staggered, and then pushed Minnie hard. “Go!” and she obeyed, trying to hop onto the nearest ledge. “All right, you big palooka, let's see you-” but Mickey was in no mood for exchanging pleasantries – he smacked Donald hard with his spear once, twice, and when Donald tried to duck and tackle, it was like hitting a brick wall. Mickey shoved him aside, and leapt on to the ledge where Minnie had just begun to slide on the ice.

She fell onto her side, and gasped as Mickey stuck his spear into her dress to keep her there. She gazed up at him, at his lifeless blue eyes that saw nothing. “Mickey,” she whimpered, but there was no reaction. Her mouth fell open, wanting to beg and plead, wanting to say all the things that built up since he'd been gone, but found no words to express them. The Snow Queen was right about one thing – he wasn't going to listen. Not like this. She then held her breath as she understood. “You're not my target.” No, if she wanted to fix things...

“Comin' through!” Goofy hollered – before riding on a reindeer that slammed Mickey off Minnie. Maybe he wasn't good for much in combat, but even an ice warrior had difficulty fending off hundreds of pounds of solid flesh and horns. Minnie sat up, and could see Donald and Daisy trying to hold their own with the soldiers that had joined the battle, reindeer rearing up and kicking and ramming any in their way. Any soldiers that fell off the path seemed to vanish, but were actually waiting until they hit the wall of brethren, so they could grab, climb, and start all over. Ratface tried to help as best he could, pecking and biting at the soldiers, but he made no affect at all.

Throughout this, the Snow Queen stayed in place, not truly watching, her eyes distant. As far as she was concerned, she already knew the ending. Once their bodies were worn out, she'd plunge her shards deep into their chests and add to her collection - this Minnie knew. The shards, the shards, it was all about the shards, and Minnie held her aching chest, seeing what others could not. She had to act quickly, before another soldier came for her, but her movements felt tired and sluggish due to the chill in her heart.

“I know what you want to do!” Minnie cried out as loud as she could, though it did not turn the Snow Queen's head. “You plan to use your shards on us all!”

“It is your punishment,” the Snow Queen replied without looking at her. “And it will be what is best for you, and for the world. A world without love is a safer world.”

“How can you say that it's best...” Minnie staggered, but kept on, her back hunched over. “When you don't understand at all? One shard takes over the body... two shards takes over the mind... but you never put a second shard in your heart!”

At last, this made the Snow Queen's head whip around, her eyes wide. As if all attuned to her, all of the soldiers stopped what they were doing. Ratface dove for Minnie's side, flapping his wings hard in the air. “What are you saying?! I know what I saw, she pushed them right into her heart!”

“You saw her push in one shard!” Minnie rebuked, her eyes still on the stunned Queen. “But she closed herself away before you saw anything else... I know she didn't take the second one! It never happened! She remembers everything, she hasn't lost a single memory!”

The Snow Queen's began to turn towards Minnie, her face staying the same but her eyes darkening. “Your fear drives you to insanity, child.” Her voice still had the same disturbing calmness – but the words shook, holding back. “I remember nothing, as do all of my soldiers. That's why they will never wake up and return to their lives. I gave to them the same thing I gave to myself.”

“Liar!” Minnie screeched, and though she felt tears near her eyes, they lacked any natural warmth. “You're lying! I know you never gave yourself another shard, and you still have your memories in you... because if you didn't... because if you truly forgot everything the demon did to you...we wouldn't be here!” She held out her hand, gesturing to the horrors all around her. “You wouldn't be trying to 'save us' from love, if you didn't remember every part of it for yourself! If you really wanted it gone, you would have erased it from yourself entirely! But... you kept it....” Her breath hitched, as she felt her very insides growing numb. “I know what the demon did to you, I know the things he said and what happened to your wings...”

The Snow Queen's free hand began to shake, before curling up, fingernails pressed into her palm. “If you really do know what happened to me... then you know why I erased those memories. I would want nothing to remember him by. There is no truth to your words, I will not hear them!” Suddenly her once peaceful voice became louder, and all of the soldiers turned toward Minnie. One by one, they began moving toward her, and her friends became more frantic in their efforts to stop them.

“You do remember, and I know why you kept those memories!” Minnie heard Mickey coming for her, and knew that he would show her no mercy, that no matter the tears she shed or the answer to his last question, he was gone, and would stay gone if she stopped. “Because despite all the pain you feel, despite what happened to your wings, despite everything... You don't _want_ to get rid of the memories, of that time when one person made you feel loved!”

“Silence!” The Snow Queen's frozen facade began to break, and the mirror atop her staff glowed deeply, harshly. “It's not true! None of it's true! Make her stop!”

Mickey came up behind Minnie and grabbed her by the arm, forcing her backwards, but she pulled forward, even as her bones began to grow cold, even as her muscles lost their feeling, even as every part of her was in endless pain. “He made you feel like you were important! Like you were special! He made you see a part of you that you never knew was there... and he made you happy! You never wanted to forget that, you couldn't go through with it! No matter how much it hurt to remember, you wanted to keep him with you!”

How much was she speaking of the Snow Queen, and how much was she speaking of herself? She could no longer tell, the lines between these lost lives now growing blurry. Ratface had stopped his flying, stunned at what was being said, his beak agape, mind in the past. Donald, Daisy, and Goofy kept trying to fight past the soldiers, to save their dear friend, but all they could do was delay the inevitable by mere minutes.

“That's why you're doing this!” Minnie yelled as Mickey held her arms behind her back, to the point where she was certain something would break soon. “You hoped that if you got rid of everyone's love, yours would vanish on its own! But it won't! It never will!”

“Stop it! STOP IT!” The Snow Queen – Magica – had begun to scream, clutching her hair, all the emotions she had tried to kill rising up and clawing at her throat. “I SAID STOP IT!”

Mickey's hand came for her throat, and Minnie used the last of her strength, “After all this time, more than you love mortals, more than you love helping them, even now – _You still love him!_ ”

“ _NOOOOOO!_ ” Magica's hands were on the staff now, not even aware of what her powers were doing, all she could hear was the voice she wanted to silence and all of its truth. The mirror began to crack, over and over, and then – it in a wind as harsh as a scorned lover, shards flew out and sank into Minnie's chest. Not just one, or, two, or even three – countless shards entered her chest, and her eyes lost their color, her entire body went white, and then - 

“Minnie!” Ratface shrieked, taking to the sky, but it was too late. Ice formed from within Minnie's chest, and then quickly climbed all over her body, encasing her like a clear coffin, growing up and down in an icicle that could not be broken. Mickey was flung backwards by the sheer force of it, although he was quick to stand up and await more orders from his Queen. All the soldiers were doing the same, stopping in place, as the ice around Minnie finally stopped. All the color was stripped from her body, even her clothes, and not even the blue from her veins could be seen anymore.

Magica dropped her staff in silent shock, her hands trembling as they came to her mouth. “No... no... w-what have I done...?”

“Minnie!” Daisy burst into tears, but that didn't stop her from running towards the wall of ice that held her friend, Donald and Goofy in tow. “Minnie, darling! Minnie, wake up!” She banged her fists on the ice, but not even a speck came off. Donald slammed his hands hard, and Goofy had one of his reindeer bang into it, but nothing would make the prison budge.

“Pretty girl!” Ratface tried to claw at the ice with his talons, yet couldn't leave a scratch. He hadn't cried since he betrayed his lost love, but now tears fell hard, as he scratched and scrabbled. “No, no! You were supposed to be different! Oh, I should never have taken you here! I should have left you be!” He hit his wings on the ice until his small body gave out, and he dropped from the sky. Daisy caught him in her arms, and they wept together, unable to look away from Minnie's lifeless body.

They were not alone in their grief – Magica fell to her knees, shaking her head wildly, as if that would undo the life she'd taken. “This... This wasn't supposed to happen! I was trying to help you! I... I was trying...” But the words fell flat, doing no good, being forced to confront reality – that in her years of reigning torment, she hadn't helped anyone. Why did that girl keep fighting, when she knew she couldn't win? Why did she keep moving forward when everyone else had given up? Magica didn't know, and didn't know what to do. She'd never given anyone more than a second shard. The third was only a threat, only to keep them in line, only to protect mortals from the pain of love! “I wanted to help...”

The soldiers kept waiting for orders, unable to grasp what was happening around them. As Mickey waited with them, a red blur touched his face.

It was one of the rose petals from Minnie's hair, all of them now floating gently downwards, having been flung from her body as she'd been encased. None of the soldiers acknowledged it. Mickey went to remove it, as it was an obstacle, and all obstacles had to be eliminated, so he picked it off his face and - 

And he stopped. His hollow eyes remained on this petal, staring intensely, for reasons unknown to him. He felt it between his fingers, though he could no longer feel anything at all. So why was he holding onto it? Why did he refuse to let it go? He knew he had seen this color somewhere else. It meant something to him, more than orders from his Queen. This was more than a color, more than a petal. It was a symbol, an accomplishment, it had been work and effort and determination, never giving up despite all the odds. He knew this, because... because... didn't he...?

Slowly, his eyes went up, looking at the girl in the ice. Why did she have this? Who... was she...?

“...Minnie...?”

~*~

Little Minnie laid in the snow, knowing it was piling on her but unable to feel it. She couldn't feel anything, and it was getting harder to see anything in the pitch black night. Her voice was worn out from screaming for Papa, it was clear he wasn't coming. She was all alone.

Except Minnie of the present was there too. She blinked down at her younger form, pitiful and pathetic as she took shallow gulps of air. She remembered this night very clearly, and at her worst moments and deepest fears, it came back to her with resounding force. Sometimes it felt like she'd never escape this night, and maybe she hadn't, maybe everything up to now had been a mad dream of death. She sighed, and looked at the door, knowing Papa and Mama were on the other side. This had been done as an act of love, twisted and cruel as it was. He'd only wanted to protect her, to show what would happen if she defied the Snow Queen.

And he was right, wasn't he? Wasn't she dead? Or something close to it. She hadn't been able to defeat the Snow Queen and rescue Mickey. She led several innocent lives along her insane quest and now they'd be turned into mindless soldiers too. Everything had been for naught. Maybe it would have been best for everyone if she really did die this night.

She'd been scared of the cold for so long, letting fear hold her back from everything. Now here she was, devoured by it, and she looked down at her child self, wishing she could warn her of the terrible things to come. Maybe if she did, she could avoid this awful fate and save her friends. Papa had done this for the best. Papa had meant well.

She knelt down in the snow, but as she began to brush the powder off of her younger form, she paused as her eyes reflected herself. She saw her fur had now gone completely white, as opposed to the child beneath her, dark as night. She really had been so small, so weak, so fragile. If they had waited a minute more to get her inside, would she have truly died? All to protect her, to punish her for believing in Mickey's dream? Instead of fighting for their child's right to happiness, or their own, they would have rather let her suffer? They too had been afraid, they too had let fear hold them back. She understood what they had done, but...

“What Papa did was wrong,” Minnie said quietly, for the first time in her life acknowledging the sin of her elder. “Even if an act is done with love and worry...it can still be wrong. And you didn't deserve this.” Carefully, she scooped the child up into her arms and held her to her chest. “We didn't deserve it... I didn't deserve it. I wanted to believe in a future where I could be loved and happy... and that was not a bad thing.” She was so cold, but the child was... warm? Like a soothing fire that crackled and welcomed, and the snow around them began to slow down to a halt.

What was this new feeling in her heart? It was so unlike any of the other emotions she had discovered. It was soft, yet bold, taking a firm grip in her soul and giving her strength. It was a strange happiness, a new confidence, it was something she had never known was possible and yet now that she knew it – she felt she understood everything.

Like mirrors all around her, she could see Ratface, Daisy, Donald, Goofy, her parents, the Snow Queen, and Mickey, cheerful Mickey, wonderful Mickey, and around them she saw herself and what she'd done with them – for them. All the times she had listened to their burdens, offering shoulders to cry on, friendships and devotion, courage and conviction, sacrificing her own well-being for their own.

Was this love? Was this how love was supposed to feel? This...was not the love that Magica had tried so hard to erase, because Magica didn't have this kind of love. So very few people did, and that had to change. This was why it had hurt the Queen so deeply to be betrayed, why Ratface had given up everything to save her, why Goofy stayed with his abusive family, why Donald had given into anger so much, why Daisy threw so many of her parties, why Papa and Mama never told Minnie a word of kindness, why everything had stayed the same and nothing had changed.

This love was unique for every person, and Minnie smiled as she understood, as the younger version of her vanished, taking its proper place in her heart. She held herself, and warmth overflowed every single part of her body, as if the entire sun was blossoming inside of her. She knew the name of this love, and she knew it would free her.

“I am a good person,” she said softly, eyes shut. “I try my best to help those I see, and it makes me feel good when I do. I have helped people find their bravery, I have defeated evils that can no longer hurt others, I have taken steps no one else dared to see. And from now on, no matter what happens... I promise... I will never stop loving _myself!_ ”

When she opened her eyes, the ice encasing her began to split, then hiss, and then in a flurry of heat and water, broke apart entirely, flooding the crevasse below with pools of warm water. As her feet touched the floating ledge, grass began to take root suddenly, growing at a wild rate, wildflowers popping into existence in every shade of the rainbow. The ledges fell into the water, floating around, and the flowers and grass continued to grow, melting the icy pathway and giving life and form to the ground. Minnie laughed as the water splashed at her shoes, grabbing the ends of her dress and twirling around. The white was gone from her hair, and the blue was gone from her skin. At last, at long last, her nightmares were over.

Mickey dropped the petal from his hand – he remembered being a boy and planting seed after seed, never stopping despite how many failures he'd encountered, all for the sake of bringing hope to the village he loved. He knew he could save his people, he knew he was doing good for them, and he – yes, he could – he could also love himself – and with that, the spell on him was utterly destroyed, the blue on his skin evaporating at once, the fresh color of his eyes were restored. He dropped his spear, staring down at his hands, with his normal clothes restored to him as well as his heart, his breath, his ability to feel and touch. Then that delightful sound touched his ears – Minnie, laughing. Had he ever heard her laugh before? It was the most beautiful sound in the whole world.

“Minnie!” he cried, and he ran towards her, unable to last a second longer without her in his embrace. But he wasn't alone on that account – just as he'd taken her his arms, her name was joyfully shouted over and over by the friends she'd made -Daisy went for a rather hard tackle, taking all three of them down into the knee deep water, and Donald joined in, ruffling Minnie's hair between her ears, then came Goofy, seizing everyone into his long arms for a great big squeeze.

Ratface dove into Minnie's lap, pushing his head to her chest. “You stupid girl!” He sobbed openly, even as Minnie held him and kissed his head. “How dare you do this to me again! I'll leave for good this time, I swear it, you'll never see me anymore!”

“I love you too, Ratface,” Minnie said with an extra giggle, and then she looked around, unable to stop smiling, joy in every word. “I love all of you, with all of my heart! I'm so glad to have met you, and be with you! I'm so glad to be alive! I'm...” Yet she trailed off, once her eyes fell on the shocked Snow Queen. The other soldiers stayed in place, still trapped, and she had yet to move, eyes wide and mouth open.

Mickey jerked, and then went on the defensive, standing up with fists clenched. “You! After all you've done...” But Minnie gently pushed aside all the tender holds and stood up, placing a hand on Mickey's fist to lower it.

“How...?” Magica asked breathlessly, her hat sliding off her hair and rolling onto the ground. Her glorious throne was cracking and melting. “How... did you come back? I don't understand. You kept trying, and you didn't stop, no matter what I did or what anyone else threw at you. How can you still stand up? How are you alive?”

Minnie picked up the ends of her dress so she could walk out of the ocean she'd created, and stepped onto the grass, which many reindeer had now taken as lunch. She stood in front of Magica, and smiled. “You couldn't erase love, no matter how hard you tried. No, not really. You made parents afraid of loving their children, of villages afraid to love their people, and of two people afraid to be together. But there was a love you could never destroy, because you didn't know it existed... because you never felt it yourself. And that kind of love will always find a way, even if it takes centuries.”

Kindly, lightly, she leaned over and held Magica by her cheeks, lifting her face up. “You never knew how to love _yourself_.”

She looked back at her friends, who watched in awe, candles of comprehension beginning to burn within. “We all forgot how to do it... and so many of us need another's love in order to see it for ourselves. We become so focused on loving another that we can't see the good in us. We look for others to make us feel special, because we can't find it in ourselves. But... it is there. Sometimes it needs help, but it is there. We can all find a way to love ourselves.”

Tenderly, she stroked Magica's hair as she would do to Ratface's feathers. “And you? It won't be easy, after all the pain you've caused... but I know you can find it too. The person you used to be, who helped others because that is what they liked to do. The person the demon fell in love with. She's still there, and she deserves love, the same as everyone else does. Everyone deserves love... especially from themselves.” With that, she gently kissed the top of Magica's head.

The final touch of pure warmth melted the spells – the palace of ice began to dissolve, and the soldiers staggered, waking up, one by one, some falling over in shock, others running to their loved ones in mad joy. Magica's minks and robes fell apart, revealing the divine, simplistic robes she once wore as an angel of the earth. Magica gasped, pained, and then suddenly she held Minnie closely, weeping into her, and Minnie allowed it, continuing to stroke her head and let centuries of agony pass through.

The staff fell apart, melting away until there was only the mirror left, and the crack still remained, except now it did not look so terrible. In a different light, it was not seen as an imperfection, but a quirk, perhaps. Broken still, but not inherently bad because of it. All around them, the forest quickly regrew into its natural state, the water rolling away into the open mud and dirty path. The clouds parted, and when Magica lifted her teary face, Minnie could see herself reflected in those eyes again, and she was proud of what she beheld. 

“I'm sorry,” Magica groaned, her fingers holding firmly onto Minnie's dress. “It's not enough, it will never be enough, but I am sorry.”

“Not everyone will forgive you,” Minnie said gently, “And the wounds you made will take a long time to heal. But...I think anyone can start over, if they really want to try.” She glanced backward, and met Ratface's eyes. He gulped audibly, but knew he could stand back and watch as a mere audience member no longer. He stepped back, then forward, flapping into the air and landing on Minnie's chest. He tucked his beak softly to her chin, a silent show of gratitude for the journey she had taken and all she had endured. She kissed his beak in return, thankful for the way he'd shown her and the protection he'd tried to give.

Minnie held out her arm, and Ratface walked down along it, trembling quietly as he looked at Magica, who was quietly watching him in return. Slowly, Magica held out her hands, and Ratface walked into them, his eyes blurry with years of tears. “I was so caught up in the bliss of loving you,” he murmured, “that I never considered the world around me, and that the things I had done that would catch up to us. I wanted so desperately to be special, to be better than everyone, when I could have been content with me being me... as long as I was with you. I will not ask your forgiveness, I will never deserve it. But I beg you here and now... to let yourself be free to love yourself for the first time.”

Magica said nothing still, but she lowered her head, pressing her forehead to his own. The concept of loving herself had never been thought, had never been experienced, and the idea was frightening after all the pain and misery she had caused. Minnie picked up the fallen mirror, and offered it back to Magica, and in this gesture the angel could see the person she once was – the one who had been so terrified of falling to temptation she'd given away her magic. “Whoever you were,” Minnie said, her smile feeling immortal, “she may still be deep inside you. I think you can find her again.”

It would be a long, difficult task to do so, but Magica could feel Ratface – Gladstone – nudging her with his wing, urging her to try again. Maybe now she could think as Minnie did – to do nothing was tantamount to giving up, to being dead already, and the only way to attempt to fix the problem was to try. Try, try, and try again. Minnie, with no powers of her own save for her own heart, had come this far. It was time to see how far a fallen angel could go. Magica's fingers brushed up to the crack in the mirror. “Thank you, child,” she said softly, and the mirror began to glow. “Thank you for breaking my rules.”

Then the glow became bright, bright enough to blind but not enough to pain, like the summer sun shining down for the first time in ages. When Minnie could see again, the two were gone, but up in the sky, she could have sworn she saw a pair of ravens flying away. Sparks of sunlight fell from the sky, and for every sunny spark that fell, the soldiers began to wake up, their eyes clearing, their hearts open, and there was gasping and crying and cheering and singing. Loved ones were reunited, and the world was free. Ah, but yet, not all was done, so Minnie remembered. She turned around, facing the proud expressions of her companions. “Mickey... I have an answer to your question.”

“Oh!” Mickey's breath caught, and he stumbled forward, so overcome with excitement he nearly forgot how to walk. Daisy giggled as she stepped aside, Donald rolled his eyes as he pulled Daisy in by the shoulder, and Goofy began to earnestly sniffle. “Right! Th-the question! Of course! I mean, I'm sorry about the jewel, and everything, I wasn't in my right mind, wasn't in any mind, I was...” He cleared his throat, understanding he was going nowhere fast. He took a slow breath to try and calm down, and then knelt in front of Minnie, taking her hand. “Minnie... I love you with all my heart. I feel like I always have. And now I know, together, we can rebuild our village...and we can do it side by side. So, Minnie, will... will you marry me?”

Minnie tenderly put her hand atop of Mickey's, and inhaled, exhaled – she had been confident of this answer ever since she woke up to what she had been missing, and there wasn't a doubt in her heart that her choice would be the right one. She knew exactly what to say.

“No.”

Mickey's jaw dropped open in shock, but it was Daisy who yelled, “WHAT?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Goofy tilted his head. “Did I miss a step?”

Donald rapidly gestured between the mice. “You went through all that, and you say no?! Why?”

To that, Minnie let out a soft laugh. “Because I only just allowed myself to _be_ myself! All this time we've been growing up, I haven't been allowed to think or say or feel what I really mean. How can I be sure if Mickey loves the real me, when _I_ don't even know the real me yet?” She pulled Mickey up his feet, and closed his open mouth. “Yes, let us return home and free our families from the prison the Snow Queen made... and let's learn a little more about each other first, all right?”

Mickey snorted, but found he couldn't very well argue against her logic. He thought he'd be angry or disappointed, but instead, he felt a little relieved, and perhaps excited. “In that case... I can't wait to get to know the real you. I bet she's some kind of wonderful.”

Minnie looked to the sky, hoping she'd see one more glimpse of her flying friend, but he was nowhere to be found. The former soldiers were now embracing one another, eager to return to their friends and family. Daisy spotted her parents and flew into their arms, embracing each other with kisses. Goofy began to wail happily, and Donald sighed as he tugged him along, certain he'd need his help rounding up all the reindeer, yet couldn't find it in himself to complain.

At long, long last... winter had ended, and spring had come.

“Yes,” Minnie answered. “I bet she is.”

~*~

All the spells had been broken at last, and all who had shards within them were freed of their grasp. In the Golden Kingdom, the rightful rulers were quick to undo the damage their daughter had done – and best of all, allowed their child to be young again. Her beloved attempted the path of the guardsmen once more, and failed once more, yet he vowed to never truly give up. After all, he had a wondrous woman waiting for him at home, who gave him the confidence he lost. The outcast from the family of thieves found a new family, one that didn't consist of brothers and mothers, but of neighbors and friends who opened their arms and their hearts to him, helping him find a new home for him and all his furry friends.

The women who had become petite and porcelain dolls were now flesh and blood again, and they banded together to return to their families, eager to embrace the world that was new warm and loving as it was meant to be. The snows melted, and the ice thawed, and in one village, the joy of seeing lost ones return was enough to warm the cold souls of every single man and woman. There were wounds that needed to heal, traditions to be unearthed, and come the next year, there were beautiful roses that grew all over the land.

One day, when the village was colorful and happy and full of smiling people, there was a wedding for the first time in years.

Did they all live happily ever after? Oh, never count on such a thing. No life can ever be happy all the time, nor can it ever be constant sadness. But there is one thing to be certain of – so long as they kept love in their hearts for one another, and especially for themselves, there were far more happier times than ever before.

My pretty girl wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
